Chapter : 1949

  Lloyd gripped the handle of the short, heavy sword in his left hand. The Hour Blade.

  It was black and ugly. It looked like a chunk of metal that had been at the bottom of the ocean for a thousand years. It radiated a feeling of extreme heaviness. Just looking at it made your shoulders ache.

  Lloyd took a step toward the portal. The wolves were already rushing toward Airin. The Collector was grinning, thinking he had created enough chaos to escape.

  "Seventh Form," Lloyd said. His voice was heavy, like a stone dropping into a well.

  He lifted the heavy black sword. It moved slowly, dragging trails of dark energy through the air.

  "Stasis."

  Lloyd swung the sword.

  He didn't aim at the Collector. He didn't aim at the wolves. He aimed at the empty space right in front of the portal.

  He slashed the air horizontally, from left to right.

  ________________________________________

  When Lloyd swung the heavy Hour Blade, there was no whistling sound of wind. There was no flash of light. Instead, there was a deep, resonating THUD, like a heavy book slamming shut in a quiet room.

  The blade left a black line in the air. It was a scar on the world itself.

  The effect was instant and terrifying.

  The three wolves that had just jumped out of the portal froze.

  They didn't just stop moving like they were pausing. They became statues. One wolf was in mid-air, its claws reaching out, its jaws open in a snarl. Gravity stopped working on it. It just hung there, suspended in space, motionless. The spit flying from its mouth froze into little diamonds of liquid. The smoke that made up its body stopped swirling and became as solid as black rock.

  The portal itself, the swirling vortex of purple energy, stopped spinning. It looked like a painting of a portal. The ripples of magic hardened. The claws of the other monsters trying to get out were stuck, unable to push forward, unable to pull back.

  Everything within ten feet of that black line Lloyd had drawn was locked.

  "Stasis," Lloyd repeated, lowering the heavy sword.

  The Collector stared at his monsters. He waved his hand, trying to command them.

  "Move!" he screamed. "Bite her! Move!"

  Nothing happened. The wolves were trapped in a single second of time. They weren't dead, but they weren't alive either. They were paused.

  Lloyd walked past the frozen wolves. He tapped one of them on the nose with his finger. It felt as hard and cold as iron.

  "You can scream at them all you want," Lloyd said casually. "But they can't hear you. In their world, no time is passing. For them, this moment will last forever... or at least, until I decide to let it go."

  Lloyd turned to face the Collector. The man was backing away, hitting the wall of the greenhouse. He had nowhere left to run. His time machine was useless against Lloyd’s speed. His monsters were useless against Lloyd’s lock.

  "What... what are you?" the Collector whispered. He looked at Lloyd with pure horror. "You aren't a mage. Mages use mana. Mages use elements. You are... you are breaking the world."

  Lloyd looked at the heavy black sword in his hand. He felt the connection to Zafira, the ghost woman floating silently behind him. He felt the cold logic of the universe in his grip.

  "I am an engineer," Lloyd said. "And I just fixed your glitch."

  He looked over at Airin.

  She was still frozen against the table by the Collector’s original machine, but she could see everything. Her eyes were wide, filled with awe. She watched Lloyd standing there amidst the frozen monsters, holding swords made of time itself.

  She wasn't looking at a nobleman anymore. She was looking at the man from her dreams. The man who solved problems that no one else could solve.

  Lloyd turned back to the Collector.

  "You have a choice," Lloyd said. He raised the silver Minute Blade again, pointing it at the man’s face. "You can drop that black box and surrender. Or I can cut the time out of your lungs, and you can spend the rest of eternity trying to take your next breath."

  The Collector looked at the frozen wolves. He looked at the portal that was now just a wall of solid energy. He looked at the golden clock in Lloyd’s eye.

  He knew he had lost.

  Chapter : 1950

  But the Collector was a fanatic. He served the Fire Fly Corporation. He served the Seventh Circle. He knew what happened to people who surrendered. Failure was punished far worse than death.

  "You think you've won," the Collector spat. "But you don't know who we are. You don't know what is coming."

  The Collector’s hand tightened on the black box. But he didn't turn it off. Instead, he jammed his thumb down on a different button—a small, recessed switch on the side.

  "If I can't take the girl," the Collector snarled, "then no one gets her."

  The box began to glow with a violent, unstable red light. It started to shake and whine.

  "Overload," the Collector whispered. "This device contains a miniature singularity. In three seconds, it will collapse this entire building into a point the size of a marble."

  Lloyd’s eyes narrowed. A bomb. A time-bomb, literally.

  "Three," the Collector counted, a mad grin on his face.

  Lloyd didn't panic. He didn't try to rush forward to grab the box. He knew he couldn't stop the reaction by hitting it. It was already counting down.

  "Two," the Collector said.

  Airin watched Lloyd. She saw him take a deep breath. She saw him switch his grip on the swords.

  He wasn't looking at the Collector. He was looking at her.

  "One," the Collector screamed.

  The red light on the box flashed blindingly bright. The air began to scream as gravity started to collapse inward.

  "Goodbye, Lord Ferrum!"

  But Lloyd just shook his head.

  "Not today," he said.

  He lifted the silver Minute Blade. But he didn't slash at the enemy.

  He turned the blade around and pointed it at himself.

  "Fourth Form," Lloyd whispered.

  He slashed the sword across his own chest.

  It didn't cut his skin. It didn't draw blood. Instead, the blade passed through his body like a ghost.

  "Rewind."

  The world blurred.

  For Lloyd, the universe suddenly jerked backward. It was like a film strip being pulled in the wrong direction.

  The red light on the box sucked back inside. The sound of the scream vanished. The Collector’s mouth closed. The count went from "One" back to "Two." Then back to "Three."

  Lloyd watched the last five seconds of reality undo themselves. He saw the Collector’s thumb lift off the button. He saw the mad grin fade back into fear.

  The world settled. They were back in the moment just before the Collector pressed the self-destruct switch.

  To the Collector, nothing had happened yet. He was just about to press the button. He opened his mouth to say "Three."

  But Lloyd was already moving.

  Because Lloyd remembered the future that hadn't happened yet.

  He stepped forward, using the Accel form again. He vanished.

  Before the Collector’s brain could even send the signal to his thumb, Lloyd was there.

  Lloyd didn't use a sword this time. He used his hand. He grabbed the Collector’s wrist in a grip of iron.

  CRACK.

  He broke the wrist instantly. The black box fell from the limp fingers.

  Lloyd caught the box with his other hand before it hit the ground.

  The Collector screamed, clutching his broken arm. He stared at Lloyd with pure, unadulterated confusion.

  "I... I was about to..." the Collector stammered. "How did you know? I hadn't even moved yet!"

  Lloyd looked down at the shivering man. The golden clock in his eye ticked one last time before fading back to blue.

  "I told you," Lloyd said, his voice flat and tired. "I cut the hands off the clock."

  He squeezed the black box in his hand. Using his sheer physical strength, boosted by his Steel Blood, he crushed the device. Metal gears and glass crunched and shattered.

  The grey heavy feeling in the room vanished instantly. The sunlight returned. The colors became bright again. The sound of the birds outside rushed back in.

  Time was normal again.

  The frozen wolves shattered into black dust as the Stasis spell ended, their connection to the portal severed.

  Airin gasped, falling forward as the invisible wall holding her up disappeared. She caught herself on the table, breathing in huge gulps of air.

  She looked up.

  Lloyd was standing over the cowering Collector. The ghostly woman, Zafira, faded away into the shadows, her job done. The swords dissolved into mist.

  Lloyd turned to look at Airin. He looked exhausted. Using that much power, manipulating time itself, had drained him. But he was safe. And she was safe.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  "Are you alright?" he asked again, just like he had when he first crashed through the roof.

  Airin nodded, tears finally spilling down her cheeks.

  Chapter : 1951

  "I knew you would come," she whispered. "You always come back."

  Lloyd gave her a small, tired smile. It was the smile of Evan, the soldier.

  "Always," he promised.

  He turned back to the Collector, his face hardening. The battle was over, but the war against the people who had sent this man was just beginning. And Lloyd Ferrum was done playing defense.

  ________________________________________

  The shattered glass of the greenhouse roof lay scattered across the floor like broken ice. The heavy, grey feeling of the time-slowing magic was gone, replaced by the sharp, fresh air of the afternoon. The sunlight streamed in, making the dust motes dance in the air. But there was no peace in the room. There was only a terrifying standoff.

  Lloyd stood in the center of the wreckage. The ghostly woman with the clock eye, Zafira, had faded back into the shadows of his mind. She had done her job; she had cut the time trap. Now, it was just Lloyd and his raw power.

  His right arm was still transformed. The white and gold metal plates of the Nova Cannon hummed with a deep, vibrating sound. The barrel was glowing with a blinding white light, charging up a ball of plasma that was hot enough to melt through a castle wall. Lloyd’s eyes were locked on the enemy. He looked calm, but inside, his emotions were a storm. He had won the battle of time, and now he was ready to end the war.

  Across the room, the Collector was shaking.

  The man in the dark robes was huddled against a heavy wooden table. His grey skin was slick with sweat, and his black eyes darted around the room, looking for an exit that didn't exist. He had lost his monsters. He had lost his time machine. He had lost his arrogance.

  Now, he realized he was just a man standing in front of a loaded gun.

  "It’s over," Lloyd said. His voice was flat and hard. He didn't shout. He didn't need to. "Drop the shield. Step away from her."

  The Collector looked at the massive cannon pointed at his chest. He could feel the heat radiating from it even from twenty feet away. He knew that if Lloyd pulled the trigger, there wouldn't be a body left to bury. The beam would vaporize him instantly.

  But the Collector was a survivor. He was a rat who had lived in the shadows of the Fire Fly Corporation and the Seventh Circle for years. Rats didn't fight lions. Rats cheated.

  His eyes flicked to the side. He looked at Airin.

  She was standing just a few feet away from him, breathing hard. She looked exhausted. Her hands were bleeding from the glass shards, and her face was pale. She was recovering from the massive amount of energy she had used to create the laser grid earlier. She wasn't a threat right now. She was a target.

  A nasty, desperate idea formed in the Collector’s mind.

  "Over?" the Collector laughed. It was a high, shaky sound. "You think this is over because you have the bigger stick? You think physics is the only rule that matters?"

  He moved.

  He didn't move with speed or grace. He moved with the desperate, jerky motion of a cornered animal. He lunged to his right.

  "No!" Lloyd shouted.

  Lloyd tried to adjust his aim, but he couldn't fire. The Nova Cannon was a weapon of mass destruction. If he missed by even an inch, the splash damage would kill anyone standing nearby.

  The Collector grabbed Airin.

  His pale, claw-like hand wrapped around her arm, yanking her roughly toward him. Airin gasped, stumbling as she was pulled off balance. The Collector spun her around, slamming her back against his chest. He wrapped his arm around her neck, using her body to cover his own.

  "Back off!" the Collector screamed.

  He raised his free hand. Black smoke poured out of his palm, forming a dense, swirling wall of darkness. It was his Void Shield. But he didn't put the shield in front of himself. He curved it. He wrapped the black energy around Airin and himself, creating a semi-circle of absolute darkness.

  From Lloyd’s perspective, the enemy had disappeared. All he could see was the black wall of the shield and Airin’s terrified face peeking out over the top of the Collector’s arm.

  "You want to shoot?" the Collector yelled from behind Airin’s ear. "Go ahead! Pull the trigger!"

  Chapter : 1952

  Lloyd froze. The hum of the Nova Cannon seemed to get louder, an angry buzz demanding to be released. But his finger hovered over the firing mechanism.

  "Let her go," Lloyd warned. His voice was shaking now. "If you hurt her..."

  "If I hurt her?" the Collector mocked. He pressed a jagged shadow-dagger against Airin’s throat. "I’m not the one pointing a cannon at her! You are! Do you know the blast radius of that weapon, Lord Ferrum? I do. I’ve read the specs on Fire Fly tech. If that bolt hits my shield, it will explode. It will burn me, yes. But it will turn this girl into ash before I even feel the heat."

  Lloyd’s heart hammered against his ribs. He knew the Collector was right.

  The Nova Cannon fired plasma—superheated ionized gas. It didn't just punch a hole; it created a thermal explosion. At this range, inside a closed room, firing that weapon was suicide for Airin. Even if he aimed perfectly at the Collector’s exposed shoulder, the heat wave would kill her.

  He was checkmated. He had the ultimate weapon, but he couldn't use it.

  "Put the gun down," the Collector ordered. "Deactivate the arm. Do it now, or I open her throat right here."

  Lloyd gritted his teeth. He looked at Airin. Her eyes were wide, but she wasn't screaming. She was looking at him. She was looking at the cannon.

  "Don't do it, Lloyd," she whispered. Her voice was strained because of the arm crushing her windpipe.

  "Shut up!" the Collector shook her. "Transform the arm back! Now!"

  Lloyd hesitated. If he powered down, he would be vulnerable. The Collector would kill them both with shadow magic the moment the cannon was gone. But if he didn't power down, Airin might die by accident.

  It was the classic dilemma. The hero’s weakness.

  "I’m waiting!" the Collector shrieked. "I’ll count to three! One!"

  Lloyd felt a bead of sweat roll down his forehead. He felt helpless. All his power, all his upgrades from the System, all his knowledge from two lifetimes... and he was beaten by a coward with a hostage.

  He started to lower the cannon. The white light in the barrel began to dim slightly as he mentally prepared to disengage the spirit.

  "Two!" the Collector shouted, sensing victory.

  The black Void Shield shimmered. It was a perfect defense against energy. It absorbed everything. It was designed to eat magic. The Collector knew he was safe behind it. He knew Lloyd wouldn't risk firing.

  But he made one mistake.

  He assumed that Airin was just a battery. He assumed she was just a scared schoolgirl who got lucky with a light spell earlier. He assumed she was a victim.

  He didn't know about the memories.

  He didn't know that inside Airin’s head, there was another woman waking up. A woman who had lived through a war on a different planet. A woman who understood that when you are cornered, you don't wait for the hero to save you. You help him aim.

  Airin wasn't looking at the knife at her throat. She wasn't looking at the scary black shield.

  She was looking at the angle of Lloyd’s arm.

  She was looking at the shiny, reflective surfaces of the broken glass on the floor.

  She was doing math.

  Time seemed to slow down for Airin again, but not because of magic this time. It was focus. Pure, cold focus.

  She felt the Collector’s arm pressing against her windpipe. She felt the cold bite of the shadow-dagger against her skin. She smelled his fear-sweat and the rot of his magic.

  But her mind was somewhere else.

  She was remembering a dream. In the dream, she was sitting at a kitchen table with Evan—Lloyd. They were arguing about a mirror. He was trying to fix a laser sight on a rifle, and the beam kept drifting.

  “It’s about the angle of incidence,” she had told him in the dream, tapping the paper with a wrench. “The light hits the surface and bounces off at the exact same angle. If you can’t shoot around the corner, Evan, you use a mirror. You shoot the reflection.”

  “You can’t shoot a bullet at a mirror,” he had laughed.

  “No,” she had smiled. “But you can shoot light.”

  The memory faded, but the lesson remained.

  Airin opened her eyes fully. She looked at Lloyd. He was lowering the cannon, his face twisted in agony. He was giving up. He was going to surrender to save her.

  And then they would both die.