The blinding white light of the Doomsday purge vanished.
I gasped, the phantom pain of vaporization ghosting over my skin. The smell of ozone and old blood filled my nose.
I blinked.
I was back. Standing in front of the dais in the underground cavern. The Hooded Leader Duke Bastian was descending the steps, holding out the [Void-Glass Dagger]. Prince Cassian was watching from the shadows. And Silas was pacing in the background, a caged tiger waiting for a scent.
Timeline 4.
I didn't panic. I didn't rage. My mind was a block of ice.
I knew the fail conditions—every path laid out before me ended in blood.
If I played the game the way the cult wanted, Leonidas would die. That was the outcome their script demanded.
If I tried to run, Felicity would be the one to pay the price. The system would hunt her down long before it came for me.
