The light swallowed him.
Not blue.Not gold.Something between.
Milo staggered backward, blinking rapidly. He looked down.
The floor was no longer split.
The café had pulled the light away from his feet before he completed the step.
Yara stared at him, horrified."It intervened—Milo, that's not supposed to happen."
"What does it mean?" he asked, voice shaking.
"It means the café rejected your hesitation."
The jars on the shelves rattled violently, labels peeling as if burning from the edges. One jar burst in the corner with a sharp pop, and a thin stream of white mist spilled upward like smoke.
"No—no, no, no," Yara ran to it, sealing the crack with her palms. The mist immediately curled around her fingers, then vanished.
She sucked in a breath. "That was someone's destiny. If more break—"
The floor rumbled again.
The café doors flew shut on their own.
Then locked.
The windows darkened until nothing outside could be seen.
"Milo," Yara whispered, stepping back toward him, "it's isolating us from the world. It's preparing to self-correct."
"Meaning what?"
"Meaning you have one last chance."
The black mug in the cabinet behind her began to glow faintly—its matte surface flickering with phantom colors.
Milo stared at it.
"That's the rewriting drink," he said.
Yara nodded.
"And the café is showing it to you."
The cabinet door unlocked with a soft click and swung open on its own.
Milo swallowed.
"So this is it. Rewrite everything… or stay forever."
Yara's gaze flicked to him, full of something he couldn't decipher.
"I won't push you," she said. "But I'll tell you this—whatever you choose, the café will bind itself to it.*
She took a step closer.
"Milo… you matter here. More than you know."
The café lights dimmed, waiting.
The drink glowed, waiting.
Everything waited.
Milo drew a shaking breath.
And reached for the mug—