Beep. Beep. Beep.

  A familiar, annoying sound drilled into Isaac’s skull. He opened his eyes slowly and stared at a ceiling he knew too well. The beeping didn’t stop. He turned his head and saw a small alarm clock on the nightstand. Without thinking, he slapped it. Silence. He rolled over, eyes closing again, trying to sink back into sleep.

  …Wait.

  Isaac’s eyes snapped open.

  He sat up so fast the sheets slid off his chest. His breath caught. The air smelled like roses—clean, warm, intimate. His heart started pounding like it had just remembered the bridge, the chains, the faceless things.

  He looked around.

  His old room.

  The same wall color. The same light angle coming through the window. The same familiar weight in the mattress. He slid his feet to the floor and stood slowly, as if the room might break if he moved too fast. A low murmur drifted from the kitchen—soft voices, the sound of a pan, the tiny clink of a spoon.

  Isaac swallowed.

  His throat felt tight, like he couldn’t pull in enough air.

  He stepped out of the bedroom, bare feet on the familiar floor, and followed the sound. Every step was cautious, ridiculous—like he expected a spear to shoot out of the hallway. The murmur grew clearer.

  And then he saw her.

  Kate stood by the stove, cooking eggs like it was the most normal thing in the world. She wore his shirt—too big on her, half slipping off one shoulder. Her hair was messy, like she’d just rolled out of bed and decided she didn’t care. She had a phone pressed to her ear, smiling while she talked, completely unaware that Isaac’s whole world had just cracked open.

  “Okay, yeah,” she said, amused. “I’m planning to close the contract this afternoon.”

  The words hit him wrong. Normal words. Earth words.

  Kate ended the call, still smiling, and turned.

  Her smile widened when she saw him.

  “Good morning, my love,” she said. “Did you sleep well?”

  She moved like nothing had happened, like there wasn’t an army in Grimoria and a palace bridge behind his eyes. She poured coffee into a mug, set it down, and placed a plate beside it—eggs, bread, bacon. His favorite. The smell made his stomach twist.

  Isaac didn’t move.

  “Who are you?” he asked, voice rough.

  Kate blinked, confused. Worry crept into her face, but she tried to keep it light. She stepped closer, gentle, like he was having a bad dream.

  “My love…” she said softly. “Are you okay? It’s me.” She gave him a small, careful smile. “Did you forget me?”

  Isaac’s eyes filled before he could stop it.

  He stared at her like she might vanish if he blinked. His hands rose on their own. He touched her cheek.

  Warm. Soft. Real.

  Kate covered his hand with hers, holding it there. “I’m worried about you,” she whispered. “Do you need something?”

  Isaac broke.

  He pulled her into a tight hug, burying his face against her shoulder like he could anchor himself to her. Kate gasped in surprise—then melted into it, wrapping her arms around him, holding him like she’d been waiting.

  “I’m here,” she murmured, stroking his hair. “I’m here. Whenever you want a hug, I’m here… okay?”

  Isaac couldn’t breathe right. His chest shook.

  Kate pulled back just enough to see his face. Her eyes softened when she saw tears.

  She smiled—small, loving—and kissed him lightly.

  Isaac felt it.

  The warmth of her mouth. The familiar taste. The simple truth of it.

  His throat tightened again, but this time it wasn’t fear.

  Kate touched his cheek. “Come on,” she said. “Eat. I made it for you.”

  They sat at the table like they’d done a thousand times. The coffee smelled perfect. The food tasted like home. Isaac’s hands trembled as he held the mug, trying to convince himself this wasn’t a trick.

  Then Mia jumped onto the table.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Isaac froze.

  His cat looked up at him like nothing was strange. Like she owned the world.

  A lump formed in Isaac’s throat. He stared at her, breath catching—an ache so sharp it felt like a wound.

  Kate laughed softly and scooped Mia up, petting her with easy affection. Mia purred, shameless, already demanding food like a queen.

  Isaac watched them both.

  Happy.

  And terrified.

  Because it felt too good.

  Kate glanced at the time and stood. “I need to get going,” she said, smoothing her hair. “I’ve got a business meeting today.”

  Isaac’s voice came out blunt, sudden. “What day is it?”

  Kate paused, amused by the randomness. She fiddled with her earring, then answered like it didn’t matter.

  “December twenty-eighth.”

  Isaac’s stomach dropped.

  His mind flashed—L’amor. Yesterday. The night that shouldn’t be here. The war that should still be screaming in his ears.

  Kate leaned over and kissed the top of his head like he was just tired. “I’m going to hurry,” she said. “Get ready for me, okay?”

  Isaac nodded without thinking. “Yeah… okay.”

  Kate grabbed her things and moved toward the door, still smiling, still normal.

  Isaac sat there staring at the coffee, at the plate, at Mia eating crumbs like the universe had never changed.

  His fingers tightened around the mug.

  December twenty-eighth…

  He exhaled slowly, trying to keep his hands steady.

  He smiled at Mia—small, real.

  But the confusion didn’t leave.

  It just waited.

  A While Later

  Isaac stood in the bathroom with a towel around his waist, staring at his reflection. Water still clung to his hair. His chest rose and fell slowly, but his eyes didn’t look calm.

  Was it a dream? he thought. No… impossible.

  He glanced to the side, then behind him, like he expected the bridge to be there—like he expected chains to scrape the tile.

  Orion’s illusion…? He exhaled, frustrated. I don’t know.

  The bathroom door opened.

  Kate stepped in already dressed to leave, hair neat, perfume soft. Like the world hadn’t ended. She didn’t even hesitate—she leaned in and kissed him, quick and warm.

  “I’m heading out, my love,” she said. “Can I borrow your car? I’m really late.”

  Isaac blinked once, still stuck between worlds. “Yeah… sure.”

  “Okay.” She smiled and backed toward the door. “If anything comes up, call me. See you later, babe.”

  And then she was gone.

  Isaac watched her walk down the hall, heard the front door open, then close with a final, ordinary click.

  Silence.

  He didn’t move.

  The mirror kept reflecting a man who looked alive… in a house that felt too perfect to be real.

  A While Later

  Isaac sat on the couch, quiet, staring at his hands like they belonged to someone else. He opened his palm toward the air, half expecting weight to fall into it—metal, heat, a familiar pull.

  “Yu.”

  Nothing.

  No voice in his head. No shift of air. No blade.

  His brow tightened. He stood and walked to the balcony. The sun hit hard—bright enough to force a squint. The city below looked clean. Quiet. Normal. Too normal.

  His phone buzzed.

  Joe.

  Isaac answered on instinct.

  “Morning, man,” Joe said. “Where are you? Why didn’t you come to work?”

  Isaac’s throat went dry. “Joe… I— I’m not feeling good. I…”

  He stopped mid-sentence.

  Because the light didn’t match the sky.

  The sun was blazing, but above it the heavens looked… painted. Not clouds. Not weather. A red tint spread across the blue like someone had brushed color over reality and forgot to blend it.

  Isaac stared up, heartbeat turning loud.

  “…Checkmate,” he whispered.

  He didn’t think twice.

  Isaac climbed the railing and threw himself off the balcony.

  Wind tore at him. The ground rushed up—

  And everything broke.

  The building, the street, the sky… it didn’t fall apart like glass. It folded. It collapsed inward. Like a stage being pulled away.

  Isaac opened his eyes to rubble and smoke.

  His head was resting in Yu’s lap.

  Her face was blurred at first—shaking above him. Tears dropped onto his cheek, hot and real, leaving wet trails through dust and blood. She was crying like she’d been holding herself together by force.

  Then her expression snapped with shock.

  “Isaac—!”

  Yu wrapped her arms around him, tight, almost desperate, then helped him sit up, hands trembling. She looked like she was afraid he’d vanish again if she let go.

  Isaac blinked hard, trying to focus. His body felt heavy, sore, wrong.

  “What happened…?” he managed.

  Yu shook her head, voice breaking. “You went still.” She wiped her face with the back of her hand and failed to stop the tears. “Like a coma. You weren’t moving. Your breathing was weak. I thought you weren’t coming back.”

  Isaac looked around.

  Broken stone. Splintered wood. The bridge—ruined. War sounds farther away. Real air. Real pain.

  “How long?” he asked, quieter now.

  Yu wiped her face, still shaking. “Almost an hour…”

  Isaac nodded slowly, but his mind wasn’t on the time. His head throbbed. The smell of roses still clung to him like a lie that didn’t want to let go.

  He looked at his hands.

  The same hands that had been clenched around Yu not long ago… yet in that other place they felt clean. Human. Safe.

  Too safe.

  His gaze drifted, unfocused, and fragments came back in pieces—beep… the ceiling… Kate’s voice… Mia jumping on the table… the warmth of a kiss that felt perfect.

  Perfect like bait.

  Isaac swallowed, and an old story rose from somewhere deep. Not because he wanted it. Because his body recognized the edge he’d been on.

  King Goda had mentioned it once, late and quiet, like he didn’t want the word to live in the room for too long.

  A place between life and death.

  A place some people touch and come back different.

  Limbo.

  Isaac’s chest tightened.

  He’d treated it like a myth the first time he heard it. But what he’d just lived… it didn’t feel like imagination. It felt built. A trap wearing comfort.

  He remembered the last part—spoken even lower, like it was worse than the place itself.

  In the center of Limbo, there’s a hole.

  Oblivion.

  Not death.

  Worse.

  A place that doesn’t leave a second chance. A drop so deep that people who slip into it never return.

  Just… erased.

  Isaac stared at the broken stone around him and felt cold under his skin. Because that “place” hadn’t felt like torture.

  It felt like home.

  Like a warm bed and a perfect morning and a woman he missed too much.

  Like something inviting him to stop fighting.

  He exhaled slowly, shaking his head once.

  If I stayed longer…

  His throat tightened.

  If I believed it…

  He didn’t finish the thought.

  Yu touched his cheek, eyes full of fear. “Isaac…?”

  Isaac blinked hard and forced himself back into the moment. He stood up, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand like it could wipe the feeling away too.

  “We go after Elara,” he said.

  Yu nodded immediately.

  And they moved toward the palace.