2040 – Ruins of Hong Kong
Amid the debris of collapsing timelines, a cult emerged. Children born after the first timequake. They had no birthdate. No past. Only now.
They worshiped the Singularity Coil.
Lyra infiltrated their enclave—disguised, silent. What she saw chilled her: They didn't speak. They communicated in collapsed probability—luck, glitches, impossible survivals. One blinked, and the moon outside the window reversed phase.
Their leader was a child no older than nine… with Damien's eyes.
"Mother," the girl said softly.
Lyra staggered. She had never borne a child.
But the Coil had rewritten the future so many times…
…maybe it had.