I don't remember my father's name.
That still feels unreal.
But I remember his hands.
Big. Rough. Always warm when they rested on my shoulders, like he was anchoring me to the ground just by touching me.
That memory survives.
Which means something else didn't.
We sit on the rooftop of my apartment building. Luna hasn't left my side since the stewards vanished. She's quiet now, knees pulled up, gaze fixed on the city like she's guarding it by staring hard enough.
"They said he resisted," I finally say.
Luna nods. "He did."
"Resisted what?"
She exhales slowly. "Becoming what they wanted him to be."
I laugh once, bitter. "Sounds familiar."
She doesn't smile.
"He was like you," she continues. "Different power. Same cost."
I turn toward her. "What could he do?"
"Anchor outcomes," she says. "He couldn't rewind time. He could lock moments in place."
That hits.
"Like… promises?" I ask quietly.
Her eyes flick to me. Sharp. "Yes."
My stomach twists.
"So when he promised something," I say, "time had to obey."
"Within limits," she replies. "He used it to protect your family. To keep certain events from happening."
"And that pissed them off," I mutter.
"It destabilized projections," Luna says. "Your bloodline kept interfering. Each generation adapted differently."
I stare at the city lights.
"He locked something important, didn't he?"
She doesn't answer right away.
Then, "Yes."
I lean forward. "What?"
She closes her eyes.
"He locked you."
The words land heavy.
"…Me?"
"They marked you for erasure before you were born," she says softly. "Your father used his power to delay it. To seal you outside normal causality."
My chest tightens. "So my whole life—"
"Was borrowed time," she finishes.
I sit back, breath unsteady.
"That's what they took from him," I whisper. "His ability to protect us."
"Yes."
"And when he couldn't anymore…"
"They corrected the anomaly," Luna says. "Your parents. Your past. Everything except what was too risky to erase."
Me.
Silence stretches.
I think of the notebook in my pocket.
Of lines written so I don't forget who I am.
"They didn't just kill him," I say. "They broke him first."
Luna's jaw tightens. "Yes."
Anger flares again. Hot. Focused.
"Then I'm not replacing him," I say. "I'm finishing what he started."
She looks at me sharply. "Ren—"
"I don't care what they want me to be," I continue. "I'll use what I have. I'll pay the cost. But I won't become their reset button."
"And when they force the choice?" she asks.
I don't hesitate.
"Then I choose wrong," I say.
A faint, broken smile touches her lips.
"That," she murmurs, "is exactly what he said."
I stand, the night wind biting at my face.
"Teach me," I say.
She rises slowly. "Teach you what?"
"How to fight them," I reply. "Not just survive. Not just delay."
She searches my face.
"You know what that means," she says. "More rewinds. Faster erosion."
"I know."
"And you might forget why you're doing it."
I tap my chest. "Then you remind me."
Her breath catches.
"That's not fair," she whispers.
"Neither is time," I reply.
She's quiet for a long moment.
Then she nods.
"…Tomorrow," she says. "We start with control."
Control.
The word feels dangerous.
Exciting.
I look out at the city again.
Somewhere in that maze of lights, the stewards are already adjusting their plans.
Let them, I think.
They took my father's power.
They took my sister from my heart.
They won't take my choice.
Not without a fight.