KAIDA POV
"You're not going."
I grabbed Azrael's arm to stop him from walking out the door. The moment my skin touched his, the world exploded.
I wasn't in the hideout anymore.
I was standing in a small bedroom, five hundred years ago, watching a little girl die.
She couldn't have been more than six years old. Dark curls spread across her pillow. Fever-bright eyes staring at nothing. Her mother clutched her hand, sobbing. Her father pressed a wet cloth to her burning forehead, whispering prayers to gods who couldn't hear him anymore.
But I could hear them. Through Azrael's ears. Through Azrael's heart.
No, please, not my baby. She's so small. Please, just one more day. One more hour. Please.
The little girl's breathing rattled. Once. Twice.
Then stopped.
I felt Azrael—younger, less broken—reach out with power I didn't understand. The girl's soul lifted from her body, glowing soft and confused.
"Am I dead?" she asked in a tiny voice.
"Yes," Azrael answered gently. His voice didn't sound cold like it did now. It sounded... kind. "But you're safe. I promise."
"Will it hurt?"
"No, little one. You'll just go to sleep, and when you wake up, everyone you've ever loved will be waiting."
The girl looked back at her parents, still sobbing over her body. "Will Mama be okay?"
And I felt it—the moment Azrael's heart broke. Because he knew the truth: the mother would never be okay. She'd carry this grief until the day she died. No amount of time would heal losing a child.
But he lied anyway. "Yes. She'll be sad for a while, but she'll be okay. Because she knows you loved her very much."
The girl smiled, believed him, and let Azrael guide her into whatever came next.
The memory shifted.
Now I was watching a soldier die on a battlefield. Then an old woman in her sleep. Then a man crushed by falling stones. Then a woman bleeding out after childbirth. Then another child, and another, and another.
Thousands of deaths. Millions. Each one witnessed. Each one felt.
I experienced Azrael's patient kindness turn to exhaustion. Exhaustion turn to numbness. Numbness turn to the cold, detached god I'd stolen from.
The memories kept coming, faster now, overwhelming—
A mother dying while Azrael held her newborn.
Lovers dying in each other's arms.
Warriors dying alone and forgotten.
People dying angry, scared, peaceful, relieved, desperate—
Make it stop make it stop make it STOP—
I gasped and found myself back in the hideout, on my knees, Azrael kneeling beside me. His cold hand was on my shoulder. His star-eyes looked more tired than ever.
"Breathe," he said quietly. "The memories will fade."
"That's—" I couldn't find words. "That's what you DO? Every single death?"
"Every single one."
"How?" My voice cracked. "How are you not completely insane?"
"Who says I'm not?" Azrael's laugh was hollow. "I just hide it better than most."
Through the bond, I felt the truth he wouldn't say: he WAS insane. Five hundred years of bearing witness had broken something fundamental in him. The cold, detached god wasn't his real personality—it was armor. Protection. The only way to survive carrying that much death.
"The little girl," I whispered. "You lied to her. About her mother being okay."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because she was six years old and terrified. Truth doesn't always serve the dying." Azrael looked away. "Sometimes mercy is more important than honesty."
I understood something then—why he wanted to die so badly. It wasn't about being tired or bored. It was about being crushed under the weight of every goodbye, every loss, every moment of grief he'd witnessed for centuries.
"I can't do this," I said. "If the bond completes, if I become Death—I'll go insane in a year. Maybe less."
"I know."
"Then why did you let me steal the Crown?"
Azrael was quiet for a long moment. "Because I hoped... if someone else became Death, maybe they'd do it better. Maybe they'd find a way to carry the burden without breaking. Maybe—" His voice cracked. "—maybe I was just so desperate to stop that I didn't care who I destroyed in the process."
The raw honesty gutted me. This wasn't a cruel god. This was someone so broken by duty that he'd do anything—even sacrifice an innocent thief—to make it end.
"We have five hours," I said, checking the countdown above his head. 5 HOURS, 47 MINUTES. "Five hours before Seraphine's deadline. Before she helps Vex kill everyone unless we hand you over."
"You should do it." Azrael's voice was calm. Too calm. "Trade me to Seraphine. Save your sister, Lyric's brother, everyone. It's the logical choice."
"And watch you die?"
"I'm dying anyway. At least this way, something good comes from it."
I wanted to hit him. "You don't get to be noble and self-sacrificing after showing me five hundred years of pain! You don't get to just give up!"
"Then what do you want me to do?" For the first time since I met him, Azrael's control shattered completely. "TELL ME! What choice makes this better? Stay and watch everyone die? Go to Seraphine and die myself? There are no good options!"
"Then we make a bad option work!" I grabbed his hand again—intentionally this time. Let the bond flare between us. "Show me how to use your power. Really use it. Not just seeing death dates but controlling them."
"That's not how it works—"
"You're Death himself! You're telling me you can't change when people die?"
"I can know when they'll die. I can guide them when they do. But I can't prevent it. No one can." Azrael's voice was harsh. "That's the rule. The one absolute. Death takes everyone eventually."
"Eventually. But not today." I pulled him to his feet. "Lyric's countdown locked in at four minutes. That was twenty minutes ago. She should already be dead."
Azrael froze. "What?"
"Check her countdown. Now."
He went very still, eyes unfocusing as he looked at something I couldn't see. Then his expression shifted to shock. "It's changed. She's got—" He struggled to process it. "—three hours now. How is that possible?"
"Because she changed her choice!" I was figuring it out as I spoke. "The countdowns show when people will die based on the path they're on. But if they change the path—"
"—the countdown changes too." Azrael stared at me. "That's... I never thought..."
"Because you stopped trying!" I wanted to shake him. "You spent five hundred years just watching people die, accepting it was inevitable. But what if it doesn't have to be? What if we can change things?"
"You're talking about fighting fate itself."
"I'm talking about stealing from it." I grinned despite everything. "That's what I do, remember? Steal impossible things."
For the first time since I'd met him, Azrael almost smiled. Not the cold, tired expression he usually wore, but something real. Something alive.
"You're completely insane," he said.
"Good. Then we'll match."
Finn burst through the door, breathing hard. "We've got a problem. Rook just got word—Lyric reached Vex's stronghold. She's inside."
"Is she alive?" I demanded.
"For now. But Vex hasn't released Cassian. He's keeping both of them prisoner." Finn's face was grim. "It was a trap. He never intended to let either of them go."
My stomach dropped. "How long before midnight?"
"Four hours, thirty-two minutes."
I looked at Azrael. His countdown read: 5 HOURS, 22 MINUTES. Seraphine's deadline.
"We can't save everyone," Azrael said quietly. "We don't have time to rescue Mira, Cassian, and Lyric, AND deal with Seraphine, AND stop Vex's ceremony. The numbers don't work."
"Then we change the numbers." I turned to Finn. "Get every weapon we have. Every artifact, every piece of stolen magic. We're not doing the smart play anymore."
"What are you doing?" Finn asked warily.
"Something incredibly stupid." I grabbed my climbing gear. "We're going to split up. Rook and Finn, you break into Vex's stronghold the smart way—slow, careful, extract prisoners quietly. Azrael and I are going to do the opposite."
"Which is?"
"We're walking straight through the front door and challenging a fallen goddess to single combat." I looked at Azrael. "You said Seraphine wants you? Let's give her what she wants. But on our terms."
"That's suicide," Finn protested.
"Maybe. But it's also a distraction." I was planning as fast as I could talk. "While Seraphine is focused on us, you two extract everyone from Vex's prison. When you're clear, signal us. We escape before midnight, save everyone, and nobody has to die."
"Except us," Azrael pointed out. "When we walk into Seraphine's prison."
"Details." I strapped on my knives. "You've died a thousand times in memory. Time to try surviving for real."
Through the bond, I felt Azrael's emotions—terror, yes, but also something else. Hope. Desperate, fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, I was crazy enough to pull this off.
"Five hours," I said. "That's what we have. Let's steal everyone's lives back."
We were halfway out the door when Rook spoke from the shadows.
"There's something you should know," he said quietly. "About Seraphine's prison. The reason it's called the Skybound Chains."
"What about it?" I asked impatiently.
"It's not built on land. It's a floating fortress, held in place by divine chains anchored to nothing. If those chains break—" He paused. "—the entire prison falls. Miles down. Into the Void Below where nothing survives."
"So don't break the chains," I said. "Got it."
"Kaida." Rook's ageless eyes were serious. "Seraphine's prison holds over three hundred immortal prisoners. Criminals who can't die by normal means. If you break the chains and the prison falls, those prisoners will survive the landing. And they'll be free."
My blood ran cold. "What kind of prisoners?"
"The kind that were locked away for trying to end the world."
Azrael swore. "This changes everything. We can't risk—"
The communication stone blazed white again.
Seraphine's voice poured out, beautiful and terrible: "Hello, little thief. I know you're planning something clever. So let me make this simple. You have four hours now—I've moved up my deadline. Bring me Death, or I drop Vex's prisoners into the execution chamber early. All of them. Including your sister, the brother, and your traitor friend."
The stone went dead.
Above Azrael's head, his countdown shifted: 4 HOURS.
And above mine, something impossible happened.
My thirty-day countdown flickered, changed, locked in at:
4 HOURS.
If we failed—if we didn't solve this in four hours—both Azrael and I would die.
The bond wasn't just linking us emotionally anymore.
It was linking our deaths.