The ink hadn't even dried on the page before the world screamed.
Not a sound ..... more like a tremor in the bones of time. The manor's foundations shuddered, groaning like something ancient waking from a forced slumber. Lila stumbled back, the sketchbook clutched to her chest, her heart pounding as the walls fractured like porcelain.
The parlor flickered. For a heartbeat, it was the room she remembered.....dusty, familiar, faded. Then it was something else entirely. Half-ruined. Gutted by fire. The wallpaper blackened, the chandelier above them swinging wildly, shedding crystals like tears.
"What's happening?!" Theo yelled, reaching for her.
Lila could barely breathe. Her vision doubled. In the mirror across the room, two reflections stared back: one was Eleanor Hart, pale and wide-eyed in her 1927 dress. The other was Lila....the real Lila, her face smudged with ash, her ink-streaked hands trembling, tears cutting paths through soot.
The Collector was near.
She could feel it, like static crawling along her spine.
And then it stepped through.
Out of the hallway. Out of time. Out of nowhere.
Still wearing the guise of the suave patron.....but now, its features melted slightly, like oil paint sliding on wet canvas. One eye bled darkness. The other shimmered with gold. Its voice curled like cigarette smoke.
"Did you think you could win by choosing early?"
Lila backed away, but it wasn't fear....it was fury.
"You fed off this loop. You built it. But I broke it."
The Collector's smile was all teeth. "No, darling. You made it worse. Time is unspooling now, faster than ever. You've drawn a future that can't coexist."
Theo stood, dazed. "Lila, what did you do?"
The floor cracked between them.
Lila turned the sketchbook toward him. "I drew you alive. But... I'm fading."
Already, her hand was growing translucent.
Theo's eyes widened. "No. No, no, no......."
The Collector gestured lazily. A mirror beside them shattered, revealing not silver backing but a vortex of memories...every past loop, every scream, every sacrifice. Vincent crying beside a crib. Lila watching the flames. Theo gasping his last note.
The ouroboros symbol glowed faintly at the vortex's center.
"You see?" the Collector said. "There's no exit. You've only painted the cage more vividly."
But Lila wasn't listening.
She walked forward.
"Theo. If I vanish, you have to remember this. Don't sign again. Don't bargain. Let yourself mourn. Please."
His voice cracked. "I can't lose you again."
"You already did. Every time. This time... at least let it matter."
A penny clinked to the floor.......
Modern. Dated 2025.
Time groaned. Mirrors shattered. The ink on the walls bled like veins.
Theo grabbed her, held her to his chest. "Stay. Please, stay."
Her body flickered......now transparent. Her voice was faint.
"You'll find the sketchbook. When you're ready. That's how you'll remember."
A scream built in the Collector's throat.....but Lila threw the sketchbook into the vortex.
It burst into flame.
Light swallowed the room. Time convulsed.
And then...
.....Stillness.
Theo knelt, alone.
The manor was quiet. Dust motes floated through broken sunlight. A cradle sat untouched. In his lap, a single charred page remained, unburned.
A sketch of him at the piano.
The caption, in Lila's shaky hand: "We've done this before, haven't we?"
He touched the page. And remembered everything.