The jump spit me out onto damp grass, rolling me straight into a patch of cold mud.
I didn't stand immediately.
Couldn't.
For a moment, I just lay there, chest heaving, staring at a sky that miraculously...was whole. Blue. Unbroken. Real.
Not cracked.
Not collapsing.
Not screaming with the echoes of dying worlds.
Just a sky.
I swallowed hard, pushing myself upright.
My hands shook uncontrollably.
Whether from exhaustion or grief or the residue of Timeline Zero. I didn't know.
Broken Aren's last moments flickered behind my eyes like a film stuck on repeat.
His cracks.
His fading voice.
"You're the missing piece."
I squeezed my eyes shut.
I didn't want to be any piece...missing or otherwise.
But the memory fragment he gave me pulsed faintly in my pocket, reminding me I didn't have the luxury of denial.
This timeline was lush – trees towering overhead, the smell of earth and leaves heavy in the air. A forest, pristine and untouched.
"Where was I?"
A twig snapped.
My entire body tensed.
I spun around, generator in hand, even though it was barely functional at 1% stabilization now.
A figure emerged from behind a tree.
My stomach plummeted.
"Aren?" the man said.
My voice came out hoarse. "You're kidding me."
Another Aren.
Except this one looked… normal. Healthy.
Older maybe by a year or two.
Clothes simple.
Expression startled but not dangerous.
Definitely not V-0.
Definitely not cracked like Broken Aren.
He walked slowly toward me, hands raised in peace.
"Well," he said, "I didn't expect a version of me to drop into my backyard today."
I blinked.
"Your… backyard?"
He nodded, smiling awkwardly. "Yeah. This forest is behind my house. You landed practically on my tomatoes."
I stared.
He gestured vaguely at the dirt. "Rude, by the way."
A laugh burst out of me...unexpected, broken, too close to sobbing. He raised an eyebrow.
"Bad day?" he asked gently.
"You have no idea."
He studied me more closely, expression sobering.
"Actually," hesaidquietly, "I might."
I stiffened. "What do you mean?"
He took a deep breath.
"A few months ago… I started having visions. Memories that weren't mine. Worlds I've never seen. Versions of me I've never been."
My pulse quickened.
"The collapse," I whispered. "It's leaking through."
He nodded.
"I didn't understand it until now. Until I saw you."
He hesitated. "You're running from something, aren't you?"
I let out a shaky breath.
"Something. Someone. A version of us."
His expression darkened. "V-0."
My entire body froze.
"How do you know that name?" Idemanded.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "A voice. It came through one of the visions. Said something about 'the anchor' and 'the first one.' I thought I was losing my mind."
"You're not," I said.
For a long moment, we stood there – two versions of the same man, sharing the same fear.
Finally, he said:
"Come on. If you're being hunted, you'll need someplace safe. My house is shielded. Not perfect, but it might buy us time."
I hesitated.
"I don't want another version of me getting hurt," I said quietly.
He gave me a wry smile. "I've survived this long. Plus, it'd be pathetic if I die in my own backyard."
I huffed out a short laugh despite myself.
We walked together toward a small cabin tucked between trees. It was quiet, peaceful...nothing like the ruins and chaos I'd been running through.
Inside, the place was cozy, cluttered with books and blueprints. Quantum diagrams covered the walls clearly, this Aren had never abandoned his scientific instincts.
He poured me water. I drank it greedily.
Finally, he sat across from me.
"So," he said, folding his hands. "Tell me everything."
And I did.
Not the polished, careful summary I gave Lyra.
Not the quick version I gave Riven.
The whole thing.
V-0.
The collapsing timelines.
The memory fragments.
Timeline Zero.
The Multi-Memory Engine.
My role as a divergential anchor.
Broken Aren's death.
When I finished, he didn't speak for several moments.
Then he exhaled slowly.
"Okay," he said softly. "I think I understand something."
"What?"
He pointed at my chest – not at my heart, but slightly above it.
"You're stable. More stable than any version of us."
I frowned. "Why does that matter?"
He leaned forward.
"It means you didn't just survive the original divergence. You caused part of it."
I shook my head violently. "No. I would never..."
"You didn't intend to," he said gently. "But the Engine wasn't built for one person. It needed a perfect subject. A mind that could handle infinite overlap."
His eyes softened.
"V-0 tried to become that. But maybe… maybe you already are."
A chill ran down my spine.
"No," I whispered. "I can't be. I'm not..."
But the memory fragment pulsed again.
Stronger.
Brighter.
Demanding to be remembered.
The other Aren noticed the glow.
"You should restore it," hesaid.
"I can't. It hurts."
"If it's part of the truth, then pain doesn't matter."
I swallowed hard.
He was right.
He was me...of course he was right.
I lifted the fragment toward my console.
It glowed brighter.
"Wait," the other Aren said suddenly. "Before you do that..."
"What?"
He stood, walked to a drawer, and pulled out a device...a small crystalline module.
I stared.
It was a stabilizer unit.
A real one.
A prototype I had never finished in my timeline.
"How do you have that?" I breathed.
He smiled.
"I made it. After the visions started, I knew I needed a way to protect myself. Turns out, anticipating catastrophe makes you productive."
I laughed weakly.
He handed it to me.
"This should buy you one more clean jump," hesaid. "Just one. Use it wisely."
Emotion built in my throat.
"Thank you," I whispered. "Truly."
He nodded.
"And Aren?"
"Yeah?"
"If you are the anchor…"
He swallowed.
"…then please...whatever you do...don't let him turn you into the weapon he needs."
I pocketed the stabilizer.
And for the first time in a long while, I felt… steadier.
But outside, the air vibrated.
Both of us turned.
A fissure tore open in the sky...thin but spreading.
He whispered, terrified:
"He found you."
I grabbed the memory fragment.
Activated it.
Light exploded.
And I fell into the next truth.