4.6 | Dark Ages ✓

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HE IS WITH her.

They're standing side by side on the bridge. It's the same spot where he'd saved her five years ago. It's the same spot where he'll be pushed off five years later. He tells her that, as the Cypher races to the next jump, and watches her stare down at the rushing water below in fascination. When she leans a bit too far past the rails for his comfort, he steadies a hand around her elbow to keep her from falling in.

"Were you afraid?" she asks, finally looking back at him. "When you were drowning, were you afraid to die?"

With her, there is no need for bravado. He meets her gaze squarely and nods. "I was always afraid. When I woke up in a strange world all alone with no memory of my past, I never stopped being afraid. But what kept me alive wasn't fear but...determination. I wanted to stay alive to find you."

A smile lights her face; one that makes his heart stutter. "Well, you have."

"Yes," he says quietly. "But now I have to leave again."

"You should. You don't belong in this time, anyway."

"I know."

But still, neither of them make a move to step away. With her, he is caught in the moment, in a circumstance that takes away more time than it gives him. He wants to hate this circumstance that has brought him here—but without it, he would not have met her.

Eventually, the tick, tick, tick of the Cypher breaks the moment. She glances down at his watch, then back up at him. "Jump," she says. "I'll see you in the future."

He swallows and clenches his jaw. What a wretched thing time is—to steal even this moment away from him. He brings a hand up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He lingers, his fingers brushing the shell of her ear, and he feels her breath catch at his touch.

"Promise?" he asks her. He hears the desperation in his voice, but he needs to know. He needs her absolute in a world of uncertainty; he needs her assurance that she will be in his future.

But, more than anything, he just needs her.

She nods. "I promise."

She takes a step back and, immediately, the cold wind wraps around his skin. His fingers twitch, wanting to reach for her again, and he forces his arms to stay by his sides. Her eyes rove his features, as though etching him into her memory within the span of seconds.

"Jump, Taehyung."

He opens his eyes.

Alone, in his bed, he pulls in a deep breath. It's raining outside—he can see it through the window by the bed. But where the scent of rain on a sunny afternoon should linger in the air, he smells warm coffee and toasted bagels instead. It should be a comforting scent, but it's not. The banality of it unsettles him—as though the world has returned to its normal state when its very core has already been shattered through.

He pulls himself up to sitting position. At the foot of the bed, his brother's laptop is still propped open, the screen lit with the last email from her. Dated back twenty-one days ago, she'd written that she believed they'd found a way to end the Dark Ages. He'd sensed her enthusiasm bleeding through her words, and had almost smiled when he'd read that.

The only thing that had stopped him was the fact that Namjoon hadn't received any further correspondence from her since.

He lets out a slow breath and hugs his knees to his chest.

Think, Taehyung.

Fact—Thirty years ago, he saved a drowning woman. Twenty-five years ago, he helped a girl down a tree. Twenty years ago, he saved the same child from an oncoming car. Fifteen years ago, he rescued her from her bullies. Ten years ago, he saved her from being raped. Five years ago, he'd told her everything.

Therefore, I've met you six times in the past.

Fact—Twenty-one days ago, she'd written an email to Namjoon. She'd written about finding a cure, her hopes of ending the Dark Ages, and that he—Taehyung—was doing well. They must've still been together then. But, ten days ago, he'd woken up alone.

Therefore, something must have happened within those eleven days.

Fact—What can happen in eleven days? Any number of scenarios is possible. They could've broken up. They could've gone their separate ways in a bid to save the world. They could've had their experiment backfire. They could've embarked on their own time-travel. They could've been trapped in time. They could've fallen out of love.

Or...

It's the final thought that sends an icy chill sweeping down his spine. He visibly shivers, and wraps his arms tighter around his knees. His eyes blur as he stares at the laptop, and he can feel his heartbeat thundering in his ears. His breathing grows unsteady; his fingers dig into his palms.

I've seen you in my mind. I've seen you in my dreams. I've seen you in my past.

But you are not in my future.

Desperation grips him. It feels like drowning, sinking beneath dark water and knowing that you cannot claw your way out of it. No lifeline to cling onto; no hand to hold onto. He's almost drowned before, but why does this feel like he might truly die?

His eyes, stinging with tears, dart around the room until they finally land on something.

The Cypher.

Blindly, he unclasps it from his wrist and flips it rapidly over and over in his hands. There must be a way to reactivate this. His movements erratic, his breathing harsh, he holds the two buttons down over and over again. He holds them down for three seconds, then four, then five. I need to go back in time, I need to know what happened, I need to find you, I need to, I need, I—

At the seventh second, the watch goes dark. One by one, blue words appear across the screen.

DESTINATION

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Slowly, he settles back onto his pillow. His head is still pounding, but determination sweeps through him, so viciously it feels like it might engulf him whole. He scrolls through the numbers until he finds the ones he wants. This year, this month, this hour, this minute, this second.

Twenty-one days ago.

He swallows and holds the watch up against the light. In his head, he hears an echo of her sweet voice. Jump, Taehyung. She'd promised to see him in the future but somehow, somewhere, she'd been unable to fulfil it. And if she can't see him in the future, there is only one way around it.

I have to travel to the past to bring you to the future.

Taking a deep breath, he slips a hand under his pillow to find the gun that he's kept under there. Then, with his other hand, he presses the two buttons on the watch again. He counts seven Mississippis in his head and looks at the second hand racing towards the next minute.

He jumps.