I didn't sleep.
Cassian didn't leave.
The penthouse was sealed by dawn.
Security doubled. Then tripled. Then replaced entirely.
Not his usual men.
Different ones.
Silent. Watching me more than the exits.
That was the first thing I noticed.
They weren't guarding me.
They were guarding him from me.
The city below looked normal.
Traffic.
Headlines.
Markets opening.
No one knew a system designed to reset the world had just destabilized.
No one knew I built it.
No one knew I was the fault line.
Cassian stood at the window, phone pressed to his ear.
"Lock every offshore channel. Suspend internal board authority. I don't care if Parliament collapses—"
He paused.
His jaw tightened.
"Yes. Trigger it."
He hung up.
The skyline dimmed.
Literally dimmed.
Across the financial district, three major buildings went dark.
Stock exchange halted.
Telecom slowed.
News outlets froze mid-broadcast.
I stared.
"What did you just do?"
He didn't look at me.
"I cut oxygen to the system."
My stomach turned.
"You're proving their point."
"They don't get to threaten you."
"They're not threatening me," I snapped. "They're stabilizing you."
That hit.
Hard.
He turned slowly.
"And what do you think happens if they succeed?"
I swallowed.
"You become… unchecked."
"Uncontrolled," he corrected quietly.
The air shifted.
Dangerous.
Not loud.
Not explosive.
Just… heavy.
The Cassian I married in my first life was already powerful.
Cold.
Ruthless.
But restrained.
Calculated.
Now?
He looked like something bracing against a leash.
And I was the one holding it.
Or was supposed to be.
A knock interrupted the silence.
Three precise taps.
Cassian didn't move.
"Come."
The door opened.
The silver-haired man stepped inside.
Uninvited.
Unhurried.
Bandage visible beneath his suit.
Alive.
Of course he was alive.
"You shouldn't be here," Cassian said calmly.
"And yet," the man replied, "here I am."
His eyes settled on me.
"You remembered faster than projected."
"Stop calling it that," I said sharply.
"Projection?"
"Like I'm data."
"You are data."
My vision darkened at the edges.
Cassian stepped between us instantly.
"Choose your next words carefully."
The man ignored him.
"Elara, do you remember the basement?"
The word slammed into my skull.
Basement.
Flashes—
Concrete.
Cold metal table.
Ten chairs.
My voice echoing in the dark.
"If he crosses the threshold, terminate me."
I staggered back.
Cassian caught me.
"You don't need to remember it all at once," he muttered.
I shoved him away.
"You agreed to it."
His silence was confirmation.
"You agreed to kill me if you lost control."
His jaw flexed.
"Yes."
My chest felt like it was splitting open.
"And how many times have you lost control?"
The silver-haired man answered instead.
"Every time."
The room went silent.
Every time.
My heartbeat pounded in my ears.
"Define control," I demanded.
The man tilted his head slightly.
"Cassian Thorne without restraint is not a political threat."
"Then what is he?"
The man's gaze sharpened.
"A collapse event."
The words landed heavy.
Cassian's voice was quiet.
"Stop."
But the man continued.
"In the first timeline, without the system in place, he consolidated military contracts in fourteen countries."
I turned slowly toward Cassian.
He didn't deny it.
"He destabilized two governments in three months."
"That was necessary," Cassian said flatly.
"For what?"
He didn't answer.
The silver-haired man did.
"For you."
My blood ran cold.
"In the first cycle, you died unexpectedly. An accident. Random."
I blinked.
Accident?
"He dismantled half the financial infrastructure of the continent in retaliation."
The air felt thinner.
"You built the system because you saw what grief turned him into."
Memory cracked open—
A hospital room.
My body cold.
Cassian standing motionless.
Someone whispering, "He hasn't moved in six hours."
Then chaos.
Riots.
Currency collapse.
Fires.
My stomach flipped violently.
"I wasn't murdered the first time," I whispered.
"No," the man said softly. "You were."
I looked up sharply.
"By someone else."
Cassian's eyes burned.
"And I found them," he said quietly.
The room shifted.
He wasn't proud.
He wasn't ashamed.
He was certain.
"I dismantled their entire network," he continued. "Every ally. Every investor. Every politician protecting them."
The man nodded once.
"Collateral damage exceeded projected tolerances."
"Collateral damage?" I repeated.
"Markets crashed. Supply chains failed. Civil unrest followed."
I stared at Cassian.
"How many people?"
His voice didn't waver.
"Enough."
The silver-haired man clasped his hands behind his back.
"That was when you came to us."
Memory returned in fragments—
I found them.
The Ten.
Not a secret society.
Not ritualistic.
Engineers.
Economists.
Military strategists.
Architects of stability.
And I said—
"Build something that can stop him."
I built a cage.
For the man I loved.
And I made myself the key.
"If he destabilizes beyond threshold," I whispered, "terminate the variable."
The man inclined his head.
"You are the variable."
I backed into the glass.
Cold against my spine.
"So every reset…"
"Occurs when he exceeds containment."
"And killing me resets him."
"Yes."
My chest tightened.
"So why is this one different?"
Silence.
The man's expression shifted slightly.
Because this is the first time you remembered before termination.
The implication hit like a gunshot.
"I'm not supposed to know."
"No."
Cassian stepped forward.
"That's enough."
The man ignored him again.
"There's a secondary clause."
Ice flooded my veins.
"What clause?"
He looked directly at me.
"If the creator survives past correction stabilization—"
My heart stopped.
"—containment dissolves permanently."
Cassian's breathing changed.
Slower.
Heavier.
"And what happens then?" I whispered.
The man didn't answer.
Cassian did.
"The leash comes off."
Silence swallowed the room.
The silver-haired man turned toward the door.
"You have seventy-two hours."
"Or?" I asked.
"Or the world meets him without brakes."
The door closed behind him.
The lock clicked.
Cassian and I stood alone in the quiet.
"You were going to let it happen," I said softly.
He didn't pretend not to understand.
"If it means you live?"
"Yes."
"And everyone else?"
His eyes darkened.
"I will manage it."
Manage it.
Like economies.
Like governments.
Like wars.
I studied him.
Really studied him.
There was something different now.
Not just power.
Restraint cracking.
I stepped closer.
"Show me."
His gaze sharpened.
"Show you what?"
"What happens if I survive."
His jaw tightened.
"You don't want to see that."
"I do."
A pause.
Then—
He pulled his phone from his pocket.
Typed something.
Pressed send.
Across the skyline—
Lights flickered.
Entire grids shut down.
Digital billboards went black.
Traffic systems glitched.
Stock indexes froze.
Emergency broadcasts flashed without audio.
Within thirty seconds—
News notifications flooded my phone.
MARKET SUSPENSION.
BANKING ERROR.
NATIONAL GRID INSTABILITY.
My breathing quickened.
"What did you do?"
"Pulled one thread."
Sirens began rising across the city.
Not from gunfire.
From panic.
"The system that restrains me," he said quietly, "is built into infrastructure."
"You're part of it."
"Yes."
"And if it collapses?"
He looked at me.
And for the first time—
I saw it.
Not rage.
Not cruelty.
Not ambition.
Hunger.
Pure, unfiltered dominance.
"I become necessary."
The word hit differently this time.
Governments would need him.
Military contracts would consolidate under him.
Markets would depend on him.
And no one would be strong enough to stop him.
Except the system.
Except me.
My pulse raced.
"This isn't about love," I whispered.
"It never stopped being about love."
I shook my head.
"No. It's about control."
"Yes," he said simply.
The honesty was suffocating.
I stepped closer.
"So what if I choose the world?"
His hand came up slowly.
Fingers brushing my jaw.
"Then I kill you again."
My breath caught.
Not cruel.
Not angry.
Just factual.
"And what if I choose you?"
His thumb traced the curve of my cheek.
"Then you live."
"And the world burns."
Silence.
Heavy.
He leaned closer.
"Not burns," he murmured. "Transforms."
A scream echoed faintly from below.
Chaos spreading.
Because of a text message.
Because of him.
Because of me.
I stepped back.
"You're proving them right."
"They were never wrong."
The admission froze me.
"They're afraid of what I am."
"And what are you?"
He looked at me like I should already know.
"I am what happens when power isn't distributed."
My heart pounded violently.
I turned toward the window.
The city flickered like a dying heartbeat.
I built the system to save the world from him.
But I also built it to save him from himself.
And now—
The decision is mine.
A vibration buzzed on my phone.
Unknown number.
One message.
"You missed a clause."
My blood ran cold.
I looked up slowly.
Cassian was watching me.
"What is it?"
I showed him the message.
His eyes narrowed.
"That's not from them."
My pulse quickened.
Another message arrived.
"You don't have seventy-two hours."
My fingers trembled.
"Then how long?"
The reply came instantly.
"Forty-eight."
Cassian's expression changed.
Not fear.
Recognition.
"There's a third faction," he said quietly.
The air shifted again.
"How many factions are playing with my death?" I snapped.
He stepped toward me.
"This one doesn't want containment."
My heart skipped.
"What do they want?"
His voice dropped.
"Me unleashed."
A cold, unfamiliar thrill slid down my spine.
Another message appeared.
"Meet us tonight."
Coordinates attached.
Industrial district.
Abandoned power plant.
I looked at Cassian.
"This is a trap."
"Yes."
"We go anyway."
"Yes."
I met his eyes.
Dark.
Intense.
Unstable.
And beneath it—
Something else.
Anticipation.
"You want this," I said quietly.
His silence answered.
Because if there's a third faction—
Then the system isn't absolute.
Which means—
There's a way to break it.
Without killing me.
But also—
Without stopping him.
I picked up the gun from the table.
Checked the chamber.
Loaded.
"This time," I said slowly, "we don't follow the script."
Cassian's lips curved faintly.
Dangerously.
"No," he agreed.
"This time," he said,
"We write a new ending."
Outside—
The city grid collapsed fully.
Blackout.
Sirens screaming.
Markets crashing.
Governments scrambling.
And somewhere in the dark—
Someone was trying to accelerate the apocalypse.
Forty-eight hours.
If I die—
The world resets.
If I live—
The world changes.
And if someone else interferes—
It might not survive at all.
I slid the safety off.
"Let's see," I said quietly,
"who else wants to play God."
End of Chapter Three.