The world outside the motel was quiet. Too quiet. Cassian wasn't used to peace—it made his instincts itch, like waiting for a bullet that had already been fired.
He stretched, rolling out of bed, and rubbed his temples. "Alright, first order of business—food. Second order of business—figuring out if we accidentally landed in some utopian dreamland or just stepped into the world's best-laid trap."
Rory, sitting cross-legged on her bed, glanced up from her wrist device. "Correction—my first order of business is finding out why this timeline doesn't exist in any known records."
Cassian groaned. "Can we do that after breakfast? I'm starving."
Rory huffed but shut off the holographic display. "Fine. But you're paying."
"I always pay."
"Yeah, because you keep stealing cash from alternate versions of yourself."
Cassian grinned. "Hey, if past-me leaves money lying around, it's fair game."
They grabbed their jackets and stepped out into the city, where neon lights flickered against the early morning haze. The streets weren't bustling, but they weren't empty either—people went about their business in a way that felt… natural.
Normal.
That was the weirdest part.
Cassian took a deep breath. No flickering time distortions. No reality shifts. No paradox alarms blaring from Rory's gear.
For the first time in what felt like forever, he wasn't looking over his shoulder.
And that was what scared him.
The diner they found was a cozy, retro-style place with checkered floors, a buzzing holo-menu, and the smell of something fried that Cassian hoped was meat.
Sliding into a booth, he barely skimmed the menu before waving the waitress over. "Pancakes, eggs, bacon, and whatever's the strongest coffee you've got."
Rory arched a brow. "That's a lot of food for someone who might need to run for his life in an hour."
"Exactly. Gotta have energy for that."
The waitress chuckled, jotting it down before turning to Rory. "And you, sweetheart?"
Rory barely glanced up. "Just coffee."
Cassian leaned back, smirking. "You live on caffeine and spite, I swear."
Before Rory could respond, he noticed something—someone—at the bar.
His smirk faded.
A man sat there, nursing a drink. Dark-haired, rough-looking, a few scars on his jaw. Ordinary, at first glance. But Cassian knew him.
Knew him too well.
Because he had watched this man die.
Rory picked up on his change in demeanor. "Cass? What's wrong?"
Cassian didn't answer. He pushed out of the booth, striding toward the bar.
The man glanced up as he approached, his expression unreadable.
Cassian stopped a foot away, arms crossed. "You look good for a dead man, Jace."
Jace frowned. "Sorry, do I know you?"
Cassian studied him. No recognition. No hesitation.
This was Jace. His old partner. The one who had—
No. This wasn't possible.
Cassian's hands curled into fists. "You don't remember me?"
Jace gave an awkward chuckle. "Look, buddy, I think you've got the wrong guy."
Cassian opened his mouth to argue—but then Rory yanked him backward by the sleeve.
"Okay, yeah, we're not doing this in public," she hissed, dragging him back to the booth.
Cassian sat down hard, still staring at Jace. "That can't be him."
"Well, unless ghosts drink whiskey, it is."
Rory pulled up her scanner, running silent diagnostics. The screen flickered with data.
Then—
Her eyes widened. "Cass… this timeline isn't just unrecorded. It's been erased."
Cassian tore his gaze away. "What?"
Rory turned the screen toward him. "Every timeline has an energy signature. Even fractured ones. This place? It doesn't have one. Like someone went out of their way to scrub it from existence."
Cassian clenched his jaw. "Who the hell erases a whole timeline?"
Before Rory could answer, she stiffened. "We need to go. Now."
Cassian followed her gaze toward the diner's entrance.
Two figures had stepped inside. Syndicate enforcers.
Cassian cursed.
"Guess breakfast is canceled."
---
They slipped out the back door just as the enforcers spotted them.
"Split up?" Rory asked.
"Hell no, we're not doing that again."
A plasma shot whizzed past them.
Cassian swore. "Plan B: run."
They bolted down an alleyway, weaving through crates and trash heaps. Behind them, the enforcers shouted into comms, calling for backup.
"Where's the nearest time jump point?" Cassian panted.
"Too far," Rory snapped, pulling out a small device. "But I can scramble their trackers—buy us time."
She slammed the device onto a wall console. Sparks flew. The streetlights flickered, and a wave of static disrupted the enforcers' gear.
Cassian grinned. "You really know how to ruin someone's day."
"It's a gift."
They slipped through a side entrance into an abandoned warehouse.
Breathing hard, Rory checked her scanner again. "They'll regroup in a few minutes."
Cassian leaned against a crate, running a hand through his hair. "So, to recap: We landed in a timeline that shouldn't exist, I just saw a dead man drinking whiskey, and the Syndicate still won't give me a damn break."
Rory sighed. "Yep. That about sums it up."
A voice from the shadows made them both freeze.
"I was wondering when you'd show up, Vey."
Cassian's blood ran cold.
From the darkness, Jace stepped forward. But the easy-going, confused man from the diner was gone.
This Jace had sharp eyes. Watchful. Knowing.
Cassian's hand went to his gun. "Start talking. Now."
Jace smirked. "Relax. If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have let you buy breakfast."
Cassian narrowed his eyes. "So you do remember me."
Jace exhaled, crossing his arms. "It's… complicated."
Rory scoffed. "Oh, great. Another mystery."
Cassian kept his gun ready. "What the hell is this place, Jace? Why is the Syndicate after it?"
Jace's smirk faded. "Because it's the one thing they can't control."
Rory frowned. "Meaning?"
Jace met Cassian's gaze. "This isn't just an erased timeline." He gestured around them. "It's a prison—for things that were never supposed to exist."
Cassian felt a chill crawl up his spine.
Something told him breakfast had been the least weird thing that would happen today.