The shadows moved first.
Not rushing. Not hiding.
Just watching.
Ash felt it in his spine — that old, hunted awareness from a hundred missions and a hundred deaths that weren't supposed to belong to one lifetime.
"Don't fire yet," Vernon murmured.
Ash clenched his jaw. "They don't look human."
"They aren't," Vernon replied. "Not anymore."
The tunnel lights flickered, then died completely. Darkness swallowed everything except the slow, echoing steps approaching from both ends of the platform.
One from the left.
One from the right.
A third above them — standing where the ceiling should have been solid stone.
Ash raised his gun anyway.
A voice spoke, layered and wrong, as if several throats were sharing the same breath.
"Subjects identified."
Another voice followed, softer. Curious.
"Deviation confirmed."
The air shifted. The shadows peeled themselves away from the walls, forming tall, slender figures wrapped in long, ink-dark coats that didn't move with the wind. Their faces were pale and smooth — no mouths, no noses. Just eyes.
Too many eyes.
Ash swallowed. "Collectors."
"Yes," Vernon said. "The librarians of doomed love stories."
"That's comforting," Ash muttered.
One of the figures stepped closer. The ground beneath its feet didn't echo.
"You are not following your assigned conclusion."
Vernon stepped forward, placing himself half a step in front of Ash.
"We never did," he said evenly.
The Collector tilted its head.
"Correction. You always do."
Ash felt Vernon tense beside him.
"One hunts. One betrays. One dies," the Collector continued. "Reset. Again."
Ash's chest tightened. "And what happens if we don't?"
The Collector's eyes shifted to him.
"Then you unravel."
The word unravel hit like a threat and a promise at once.
Another Collector spoke.
"Your repeated convergence destabilizes the narrative lattice."
Vernon let out a humorless breath. "So we're a problem."
"You are an error," they answered in unison.
Ash stepped forward now, shoulder brushing Vernon's. "Funny thing about errors," he said. "They crash systems."
The Collectors didn't react.
They raised their hands.
The air folded.
Ash felt his feet leave the ground.
Falling Without Falling
The world inverted.
One second Ash was standing in the tunnel. The next, he was falling — but not down. Sideways. Through something that felt like memory and static tangled together.
He gasped.
Images slammed into him:
A desert compound burning at dawn.
A sniper scope trembling as a finger hesitated.
Vernon's face — younger, angrier — shouting his name in a language Ash didn't remember learning.
Then—
Water.
Cold. Dark. Pulling him under.
Ash coughed, choking, as he slammed onto solid ground.
He rolled, came up on one knee, gun raised on instinct.
They weren't in the tunnel anymore.
They stood in a wide, empty room made of glass and light. No walls. No ceiling. Just endless reflections stretching into infinity.
Vernon was beside him, breathing hard.
"You okay?" Ash asked.
Vernon nodded once. "They're trying to separate us."
Ash's stomach dropped. "Why?"
"Because the first time we broke the cycle…" Vernon said quietly, "…we almost ended them."
Before Ash could ask what that meant, the reflections began to move.
In each mirrored surface, a different version of them appeared.
Ash saw himself pulling the trigger.
Saw himself turning away.
Saw himself dying in Vernon's arms.
In another reflection, Vernon stood over Ash's body — expression empty, gun shaking.
Ash clenched his fists. "Stop showing us this!"
The Collectors' voices echoed from everywhere.
"Observe outcome probability."
Vernon turned slowly, eyes scanning the reflections. "This is how you control it," he said. "You overwhelm choice until surrender feels like mercy."
Ash looked at him sharply. "You've been here before."
"Yes."
"And you didn't tell me."
Vernon met his gaze. "Because last time, you begged me not to."
That hurt more than Ash expected.
"Why?" Ash asked.
Vernon's jaw tightened. "Because you were tired of dying for me."
Silence stretched between them.
Ash exhaled slowly. "I'm still here."
Vernon's eyes softened — just slightly.
The glass beneath their feet cracked.
The First True Betrayal
One reflection suddenly grew brighter than the others.
The room shifted, pulling them toward it.
Ash recognized this one immediately.
A rooftop.
Rain.
Neon lights bleeding into puddles.
But this time… something was different.
He and Vernon stood facing each other — guns raised.
Ash's past self looked calmer. Colder.
"You hesitated last time," Past-Ash said to Past-Vernon. "That's why it failed."
Vernon stiffened beside Ash in the present. "No."
Past-Ash continued, voice steady. "This time, I won't."
Ash's heart slammed into his ribs. "That's not how it happened."
The Collector's voice cut in.
"Correction. This is how it could have happened."
Past-Ash pulled the trigger.
The shot echoed.
Past-Vernon collapsed.
Ash felt it — the impact, the horror, the choice — like it was happening inside his own chest.
"No!" Ash shouted.
He stepped forward, instinctively reaching for Vernon—
And the reflection shattered.
Glass exploded outward, slicing the air.
Vernon grabbed Ash and twisted, shielding him as shards rained around them.
When the light faded, they were alone again in the white space.
Ash's breathing was ragged. "I would never—"
"I know," Vernon said immediately.
Ash looked at him, shaken. "Do you?"
Vernon stepped closer. "Yes. Because I've seen the version where you do."
Ash froze.
"And you still came back?" he whispered.
Vernon didn't answer right away. He reached out, gripping Ash's wrist — grounding, real.
"I came back because in every version where you kill me," Vernon said quietly, "you break afterward."
Ash swallowed hard.
"And I couldn't leave you alone with that."
Something in Ash's chest cracked open.
Before he could say anything, the room darkened.
The Collectors reappeared, closer now. Surrounding them.
"Sentiment detected."
"Attachment increasing instability."
"Initiating correction."
The floor vanished.
Ash and Vernon dropped — together — into darkness.
The Choice That Bleeds
They landed hard on concrete.
An alley. Narrow. Familiar.
Rain fell in sheets.
Ash pushed himself up, groaning. "Please tell me this is real."
Vernon scanned the surroundings, tense. "It is."
Ash followed his gaze.
At the far end of the alley stood a man holding a gun.
Not a Collector.
Human.
Young. Nervous. Wearing the insignia of an agency Ash recognized too well.
A rookie.
The man's hands shook. "Drop your weapons!"
Ash exchanged a glance with Vernon.
This was new.
The Collector's voice echoed faintly, distant but present.
"Live choice introduced."
Vernon's jaw clenched. "They're forcing a variation."
The rookie swallowed. "I—I don't want to do this."
Ash slowly lowered his gun. "Then don't."
The man's finger trembled on the trigger. "They said if I hesitate—"
"They'll kill you," Vernon finished calmly.
Ash looked at him sharply.
Vernon kept his eyes on the rookie. "They always do."
The man's breath hitched. "What do I do?"
Ash stepped forward, rain plastering his hair to his forehead. "You choose."
The Collector's voice sharpened.
"Warning. Outcome divergence increasing."
The rookie's eyes flicked between them.
Vernon leaned closer to Ash, voice low. "This is it."
Ash nodded. "I know."
The rookie raised his gun — not at Ash.
At Vernon.
Ash reacted without thinking.
He moved.
The gun fired.
Pain tore through Ash's side as he shoved Vernon out of the line of fire.
He hit the ground hard, breath knocked from his lungs.
Vernon shouted his name.
The world narrowed to rain and pain and Vernon's hands gripping his shoulders.
"Why?" Vernon demanded, voice breaking. "Why would you do that?"
Ash coughed, forcing a weak smile. "You said it yourself."
Blood seeped between his fingers.
"In every version… I break."
Vernon shook his head violently. "Don't you dare."
The Collectors' voices rose, almost… agitated.
"Outcome unstable."
"Subject refusing reset."
Ash met Vernon's eyes, rain mixing with blood. "I'm changing the pattern."
Vernon swallowed hard, eyes burning. "Then live."
The alley shook.
The Collectors screamed — not in anger, but in something close to fear.
"Cycle fracture detected."
The world began to collapse.
And for the first time—
The Collectors didn't know how it would end.