The rain fell in heavy sheets outside Lin's apartment, washing the blood and soot from his jacket as he carried Hina in. The lights flickered faintly, casting long shadows across the floor. Lin set her gently on the couch, every breath she took shallow, but steady.
He sat beside her, drenched and quiet.
She stirred.
"Lin," she whispered, her voice raw. "You... saved me."
"Not yet," he said. "You fought back. You stopped it."
She smiled faintly. "It was in me all along... the fragment. The Gate left it. Maybe it knew I'd come to you."
Lin looked away, jaw tense. "The pendrive... what is it? Why was Time after it?"
She slowly sat up, wincing. "It's not data. Not in the way you think. It's a living code. A heartbeat. The Gate... encoded a piece of itself in my spine. The fragment is an access key. But not to open... to rewrite."
He turned sharply. "Rewrite what?"
"Time," she said simply. "Cause. Effect. Reality. You can bend the rules, but this... this can break them."
The silence that followed felt heavier than steel.
"He wants to destroy cause and consequence," Lin said.
"He wants to free himself," Hina replied. "From the chain of choice. And if he succeeds... everyone else loses it. Forever."
They stared at the pendrive's faint glow.
Then, a sudden crack — the window shattered inward.
A figure perched in the frame, black coat flapping, mask shaped like a bird's beak.
Crow.
"Well, shit," he muttered. "You really did pick a fight with Time."
Lin was on his feet instantly, gun raised. "Chi."
Crow hopped down, hands up. "Easy, tiger. I come bearing warnings, not bullets. Nel knows."
"Nel?"
"The top brass is moving. They found the base. They know about the fragment. They want it. You need to leave. Now."
Lin shook his head. "She just got out. I won't run again."
"You won't have a choice," Crow said. "This place is already on the radar. Drones. Hackers. You think you have time?"
Hina stood, slowly. Her face had changed.
Resolved.
"Then I'll give you time."
"What?" Lin turned to her.
"Destroy it. While you still can. While I still can."
She reached for the knife on the table.
"Hina. No."
"I was never meant to keep it. It was never mine. But it chose me. So let me choose what happens next."
Before he could stop her, she pressed the blade to her back — to the port where the pendrive fused.
Lin lunged.
Too late.
She sliced. Metal screeched against bone. Sparks exploded.
Her body convulsed.
Crow grabbed Lin. "We need to —"
Then it stopped.
She stood still.
A breath.
Then silence.
Then — collapse.
Lin caught her before she hit the ground.
Her eyes stared up.
Blank.
Crow knelt beside him. "She's gone."
Lin held her tight.
"No. She's not. Not yet."
Another knock.
The door creaked open.
Mao entered.
White coat. Glasses fogged from rain.
He looked at the body.
"So," he muttered, kneeling, pulling tools from his coat. "Let's find out if she really destroyed it."
He pressed a scanner to her spine.
Blinked.
"No. It's not gone. It's... dormant. Hidden. Like it retreated."
Lin grabbed Mao by the collar. "Don't touch her."
Mao didn't flinch. "Then you'll never know if she died for nothing."
Lin shoved him away.
He looked back at her.
The girl who sang to a dying machine. The girl who defied a god of time.
"Time won't get another chance."
He rose.
"Where are you going?" Crow asked.
Lin grabbed his coat.
"Where he started all of this."
The Space Research Laboratory.
**
Thunder boomed as Lin stepped into the lab's forgotten courtyard.
It looked like a tomb.
Silver towers, gutted servers, and broken satellites lay like bones. The sky above twisted with static clouds.
And there, standing at the center of the rotunda —
Time.
Waiting.
His mask was whole again.
But the eyes spun faster.
"So," Time said, as lightning flashed, "we return."
Lin didn't speak.
He raised his guns.
Time opened his hands.
The storm began.
**
(TO BE CONTINUED)