For a brief, suffocating instant, time itself seemed to come to a halt.
The world narrowed down to a single point.
A sharpened branch, jagged and merciless, was rushing straight toward Lucien Blackwood's eye—close enough that even the faintest reflection of light shimmered along its deadly tip. There was no room to dodge, no time to think, no space to breathe.
By all logic, this was the end.
A perfect execution.
A flawless strike.
And yet—
"Crack… crack… crack…"
The sports car surged forward, tires grinding violently as it smashed through a scattered pile of broken branches. The impact sent splinters scraping across the polished surface, dragging out a series of harsh, ear-piercing sounds that cut through the silence like blades. The friction was brutal, relentless, as if the world itself was trying to tear the vehicle apart piece by piece.
The car skidded.
Shuddered.
Then finally—after what felt like an eternity compressed into seconds—it came to a halt.
Inside, Scarlett sat frozen, her body stiff, her breathing uneven. Tiny fragments of seat cushioning had been blasted into the air during the chaos, some still clinging to her eyelashes, blurring her vision. But she didn't care about that anymore.
Her mind had already crossed into something far worse.
"Lucien! Lucien! Can you hear me?!"
Her voice cracked as she reached blindly toward the passenger seat, panic overtaking reason. Her fingers trembled as they searched for him, as if touching him was the only proof that reality hadn't collapsed entirely.
This… this was the same pattern.
That same invisible force.
That same inevitable sequence.
Death had come again.
But this time—
There had been no warning.
No dream.
No vision.
No glimpse of what was coming.
Had the rules changed?
Had Death decided to stop playing fair?
Her thoughts spiraled, tightening like a noose around her chest.
"I'm fine."
The calm reply came from beside her.
Simple.
Steady.
Untouched by fear.
Scarlett froze.
Relief hit her all at once, so overwhelming it almost hurt. Her vision cleared just enough for her to turn her head—and when she did, she saw him.
Lucien Blackwood.
Sitting exactly where he had been.
Completely unharmed.
Not a scratch.
Not a single mark.
As if the attack had never even reached him.
Scarlett's breathing slowed, but her mind refused to settle. Something was wrong. Something didn't make sense.
She unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the car, her movements unsteady as she circled around to examine the damage. The vehicle itself had taken the brunt of the chaos—scratches, dents, and long streaks carved across the surface. But structurally, it was intact.
That wasn't what caught her attention.
It was the pattern.
The direction of the damage.
Every single scratch—every deep gouge—angled upward.
Toward the passenger seat.
Toward Lucien.
Her stomach dropped.
This hadn't been random.
This hadn't been chance.
Everything… had been aimed at him.
Her mind replayed the moment in sharp fragments—the branches, the trajectory, the angle—
All of it converging toward one fatal point.
His head.
His neck.
A perfect kill.
And yet he was still sitting there.
Alive.
"Done staring?"
Lucien's voice cut through her thoughts, calm as ever. He turned his head slightly, meeting her gaze without urgency, without tension.
"If we stay any longer, your mother will come out."
The reminder snapped Scarlett back to reality. Her heart skipped.
He was right.
With all that noise, all that chaos—there was no way her mother hadn't noticed. And if she stepped outside and saw this…
Everything would spiral out of control.
Without another word, Scarlett hurried back into the driver's seat, her hands still shaking as she started the engine. The car roared back to life, and within seconds, they were gone—speeding away from the scene as if fleeing something unseen.
They didn't return to the city.
Not this time.
Instead, Scarlett drove toward the nearest coastline, her instincts pulling her toward open space—somewhere empty, somewhere safe. The beach stretched endlessly ahead, flat and quiet, with no towering structures, no clutter, no hidden dangers waiting to be triggered.
It felt… better.
Safer.
She parked the car without much care, cutting the engine as the distant sound of waves filled the silence between them. For a moment, she just sat there, gripping the steering wheel, trying to steady herself.
Then she spoke.
"What just happened?" Her voice was quieter now, but no less tense. "Why didn't I see anything this time? No warning, no vision… nothing."
Lucien leaned back slightly in his seat, his gaze drifting toward the horizon where the ocean met the darkening sky.
"It's simple," he said.
"You weren't the primary target."
Scarlett blinked.
"What?"
Lucien turned his head slightly, his expression unreadable.
"And I wasn't on that plane you stopped."
The words sank in slowly.
Then suddenly—
Everything clicked.
Scarlett's eyes widened.
"That means…"
"That means," Lucien continued calmly, "I was added later. Because of you."
He paused, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"And since I happened to be right next to you… it decided to move me up the list."
A shortcut.
A forced priority.
A privilege.
Scarlett's breath hitched.
"So it tried to kill both of us at once…"
Lucien didn't deny it.
But Scarlett's thoughts shifted abruptly as she remembered something else. Her hands moved instinctively, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the talisman her father had given her.
The moment she touched it—
It crumbled.
The paper disintegrated into fine dust, scattering in the wind without resistance.
Scarlett froze.
Her fingers trembled as she stared at the empty space in her palm.
She understood.
She had died.
Or rather—
She should have died.
The talisman had taken that fate in her place.
Saved her.
Again.
Silence settled between them, heavy and suffocating.
But Lucien didn't look surprised.
If anything, he looked… thoughtful.
Amused, even.
"Killing two birds with one stone," he murmured softly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched the waves roll in. "And a distraction layered on top."
Scarlett turned to him, confused.
Lucien continued, his tone calm, analytical.
"The chainsaw was meant to draw my attention. If I focused on you—even for a second—it would have created the perfect opening. The car would lose control, the branches would hit, and I'd be dead before I realized what happened."
He let out a quiet breath.
"Efficient."
Scarlett felt a chill run down her spine.
"But…"
She hesitated.
"You're still alive."
Lucien's gaze sharpened slightly.
"Because I don't rely on what I see."
There was something deeper behind those words. Something he didn't explain.
In truth, the moment danger had approached, something inside him had reacted instinctively—an almost unnatural awareness, a sharpened perception that bordered on precognition. And in that critical instant, he had acted.
Not with force.
But with control.
A subtle manipulation of airflow.
A barrier of pressure.
An invisible wall that deflected death itself.
His eyes lowered slightly.
So this… was how far it could go.
Interesting.
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
Meanwhile, Scarlett sat quietly, still processing everything. The ocean breeze carried away the last fragments of the talisman, leaving her with nothing but the realization of how close she had come.
"Lucien…"
Her voice softened.
"What do we do now?"
For the first time, there was no panic in her tone.
Only uncertainty.
Lucien glanced at her, then back at the horizon.
"Running won't help."
Scarlett flinched slightly.
"You saw it yourself. Even with warnings, even with preparation… it still finds a way."
He leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on his knees.
"Right now is the best chance you have."
"To fight back."
Scarlett hesitated.
Her fingers tightened slightly.
"…What if I don't want to fight anymore?"
Lucien looked at her.
Really looked.
"Then what?"
His voice was calm—but direct.
"You hide?"
"For how long?"
"A month?"
"A year?"
"A lifetime?"
Each question pressed down on her, heavier than the last.
Scarlett lowered her gaze.
"I just… don't know if it's worth it anymore."
Her voice trembled.
"Risking everything… just for a dream."
Lucien was silent for a moment.
Then he said—
"People risk their lives for less."
Scarlett looked up.
His expression hadn't changed.
"If you want to quit, that's your choice."
"But don't lie to yourself about why."
The wind picked up slightly, carrying the sound of the ocean between them.
Scarlett didn't respond.
But something in her expression shifted.
Just a little.
And Lucien saw it.
A faint smile crossed his lips.
Good.
Because this—
This was only the beginning.
And Death?
It had just made things personal.