I woke up in a hospital
Strange, being the one in the bed this time.
And stranger still,
I could feel it in my bones, in the weight of the sheets, in the sterile hum of machines,
I was more human than before.
I'd collapsed trying to freeze time around Echo. And now the fact that nurses could treat me, doctors could touch me, and I didn't disappear...
That meant something had changed.
But one thing hadn't.
I could still manage Echo's time.
Echo...
He wasn't here.
I looked outside the window, the sky was blue like any other day, the people in the city were still working like ants, probably busy with their own life.
A crow, perched on the cable wire far across the street.
That same sensation crawled up my spine,
Distant, yet uncomfortably close.
Watching.
Then another landed beside it.
And another.
And another—
A murder of crows.
Even from this far, I felt their eyes.
Glass-like.
Unblinking.
They cawed.
But it wasn't just sound anymore,
It grated on something deeper.
It sounded wrong.
Mocking.
Like laughter.
No—was it laughter?
Suddenly, I felt pressure on my shoulder.
"Echo—?" I turned, hope flaring.
Not Echo.
A Time.
"Roosvelt," I said flatly, my disappointment blatant.
He floated beside the bed, laid out sideways in the air like it was his chaise lounge.
White hat.
Red coat.
Old-fashioned shoes.
Pointy cane.
A smirk that made my skin crawl.
"You don't look surprised," he chuckled, floating midair like he owned the place. "But disappointed? Now that's interesting, boy."
I glared.
"You sure took your damn time," I snapped.
"Here to fix your mess, or would you rather get exterminated?"
My voice dropped an octave, sharp enough to cut through steel. I wasn't joking.
Roosvelt just grinned wider, eyes glittering with mischief.
"Ahh, young'uns these days. So scary."
Then, blunt as a brick:
"I can't fix it."
This shameless bastard.
Something snapped.
I lunged, yanked him down by the tie. My head pulsed, veins pounding under my skin. With one hand on his tie, the other crushed his jaw.
"You think I'm playing around?"
My breath was hot with fury.
"I'll ask you one more time—will you fix your goddamn mess or do I have to break your existence apart strand by strand?"
Sweat beaded on his face.
Hands up, trembling just a bit now.
"Let's... let's calm down, Riven," he croaked. "It's not that I don't want to fix it—it's that I can't."
I shouldn't trust his words—
I know I shouldn't.
But it's not like I have any other option right now.
Calm down, Riven. You can't kill him. Not yet.
I released my grip and leaned back into the pillow, trying to collect myself. Arms crossed, eyes cold.
"Speak."
Roosvelt sighed like I'd just asked him to run a marathon in hell.
"Look, we both want to save the person we lo—"
"He's not my lover."
I cut him off, sharp.
Roosvelt chuckled softly, tilting his head. I raised an eyebrow.
"Sure," he muttered, smirk never fading. "Anyway... in order to fix this—we need to speak to God. Again."
He lowered his head.
I couldn't see his face anymore.
Did he look ashamed? Or was that just another mask?
"Great," I said flatly. "You've done it once. Do it again. Just leave Echo out of it."
I shrugged like it was simple.
But we both knew it wasn't.