To save time itself, he must erase every version of who he's ever been.
Chapter I: A Gun and a Clock
At 3:33 a.m., Julian Voss sat in a rusted hotel room in Neo-Chicago, holding a gun and a clock.
Both were his.
Neither worked the way they were supposed to.
The gun — sleek, silver, no trigger. You thought about the target and pulled your breath. The weapon fired intent, not bullets.
The clock — analog, cracked face, time frozen at 3:33. But if you opened the back, you'd find you inside.
Memories. Versions. Splinters.
Julian took a breath and opened the clock.
A whisper escaped:
"One day left, Julian. One day to kill the man you were — or time ends."
He exhaled slowly.
"God, I hate Tuesdays."
Chapter II: The Collector's Deal
The first time Julian broke time, it was an accident.
He was twenty-one. Brilliant. Reckless. A graduate of illegal chronomechanics. He wanted to meet his father — a man who died before he was born.
But when he stepped back, he didn't meet him.
He became him.
That version stayed, aged, had a child, died. Julian returned — but fragmented.
And then came the Collector.
A being stitched from paradoxes. Not quite alive. Not quite a concept.
"Time is currency," it rasped. "And you're in debt."
"How much?"
"Thirteen lives."
"What happens if I don't pay?"
"Then you and every reality you touched will burn into white."
Julian laughed.
"You can't collect what's already me."
"Then collect yourself," it said. "Thirteen shadows. You have one day."
Chapter III: The First Version
Julian Voss, Age 33, Version 7.
A poet in Seattle. Lived in a rooftop greenhouse. Grew lavender, dated a violinist, hated clocks. Gentle. Kind.
Julian stood outside his apartment, watching him laugh through a window.
"Of all the versions, you're the one that didn't deserve this," he muttered.
The gun in his hand hummed. It didn't fire bullets. It fired erasure — clean, silent.
He thought of the name. The face. The breath.
The window frosted.
And the version collapsed.
Inside, the violinist screamed. But she wouldn't remember him by morning.
Julian walked away.
One down.
Twelve to go.
Chapter IV: The One That Fought Back
Julian Voss, Age 40, Version 2.
Corporate spy. Blood on his hands. Lived in a skyscraper with reinforced floors and memory encryption. He remembered things the others didn't.
When Julian broke in, Version 2 was waiting.
"Took you long enough," he said, sipping bourbon. "Thought we'd meet eventually."
"You know why I'm here."
"Let me guess. The Collector finally came knocking."
"You've got to die."
"I'm not the one who broke time. You are."
Julian hesitated.
"We're the same person."
"No. You're the guilt. I'm the survival."
He drew his own erasure gun.
They fired at the same time.
Julian collapsed, coughing — the wound sizzled, memory bleeding.
But Version 2 disintegrated. Laughing.
"You always were a coward…"
Chapter V: The Woman in the Mirror
Julian staggered into a hotel bathroom, shirt soaked in paradox burns. The mirror shimmered.
And then she appeared.
Marin.
The woman he never saved. The woman every version of him lost.
"You're losing yourself," she said.
"You're not real."
"Neither are you."
"I tried to fix everything," he whispered. "I just wanted… to undo it."
"You fractured the timeline thirteen times. All because you couldn't let me die."
"I loved you."
"And now you love no one. Just echoes."
She leaned closer.
"Will you kill the last one? The one who never met me? The one who lived?"
Julian sobbed.
"He doesn't deserve this."
"None of you did. But time doesn't care."
Chapter VI: The Final Version
Julian Voss, Age 29, Version 13.
A mechanic in rural New Zealand. Never left the country. Never traveled time. Lived simply. Had a dog named Quantum.
The Collector waited with him in a field of tall grass.
"He is the last," it said.
"He's innocent."
"He's you."
Julian approached slowly.
Version 13 looked up, wiping grease from his hands.
"You found me."
"You don't know what's coming."
"I do," he said. "Been having dreams. Ones that end before they start."
Julian held the gun. His hands trembled.
"You haven't done anything wrong."
"Yet," Version 13 said. "But I will. You did. We did."
"I want to stop."
"Then stop running."
Julian dropped the gun.
"Let time end."
The Collector opened its many eyes.
"Debt unpaid. Causality broken."
Julian closed his eyes.
"So be it."
Epilogue: Clock Zero
Time didn't end.
It reset.
The Collector faded into dust.
And Julian awoke in a park at sunset. No memories. No past. A folded paper crane in his lap.
He picked it up, confused.
A woman sat beside him.
She smiled.
"Hi. I'm Marin."
He smiled back.
"I'm… I don't know. But I think I've been waiting for you."
Somewhere, a clock ticked.
And time forgave him.