On the spot, Jihad also took off his gun and save himself from he's firing. Third Jihad run away. He tried to kill him but can't.
Black Screen....
Jihad sat quietly under the flickering streetlight as Jay cleaned a minor wound on his arm. The world was quieter now, but the silence was heavy — the kind that follows a storm but warns of another.
Jay: "So you're telling me… that wasn't you?"
Jihad (calmly): "No. He's not from our timeline. He's not me or even the one I spoke to in the mirror. He's something else entirely."
Jay: "Then who the hell is he?"
Jihad (pauses, then looks up):
> "He's from another universe. A parallel world where Jihad… never became a detective."
Jay narrowed his eyes, absorbing the weight of that truth.
Jihad continued:
> "In his world, he became a killer. Not by accident. Not by situation. But by choice."
---
6 Hours Earlier
After the failed shooting, Jihad and Jay regrouped in an abandoned underground subway station. The rusted tracks stretched into blackness, and the only sound was the soft drip of water echoing in the dark.
Jay paced restlessly.
Jay: "So now it's not just about fixing time. We've got a breach in the multiverse. Time travel opened a damn door."
Jihad: "I know. And he came through it."
Jay (sits down beside him): "But why would a version of you — of anyone — cross into another universe just to kill?"
Jihad (coldly):
> "Because in his world, it's normal. That's who he is."
Jay: "So what now? We chase him?"
Jihad: "No. We wait. He'll come back. And when he does, I'll end this."
---
Later That Night
They returned to their safe house. Jay was watching the window. Jihad sat in the corner, silent, loading bullets into his gun one by one. His mind was clear now.
A knock came at the door.
Jay peeked through the slit. No one.
Suddenly — the lights cut out.
Jay: "He's here."
The Third Jihad appeared like a shadow — stepping forward under the pale moonlight through the broken window. His face was identical. His expression… inhuman.
Third Jihad (smirking):
> "I killed a version of you in my world when I was fifteen. Do you know what that felt like?"
Jihad (without flinching):
> "Empty. Just like your future."
Third Jihad: "There's no future. Not for me. Not for you. Only endings."
He lunged forward, pulling out a serrated blade. Jay drew his own weapon and fired — missed. The Third Jihad flipped the table, took cover, and aimed at Jay.
BANG — Jay got clipped in the shoulder.
Jihad: "JAY!!"
Jihad rushed toward the window, rolled, picked up his own gun, and shouted —
> "HEY! YOU WANT ME? COME GET ME!"
Third Jihad (grinning): "Been waiting for this."
They clashed — fists, blades, broken chairs. Blood on the floor. Breath ragged. The sound of two identical voices shouting in the dark. Chaos.
Jay crawled into the corner, bleeding but watching.
Jihad finally pinned the Third version against the wall. His gun pointed straight at his other self's forehead.
Third Jihad (laughing):
> "You think killing me will end this?"
Jihad (coldly):
> "No. But it'll end you."
Third Jihad: "You're still me—"
Jihad:
> "No. You're what I could've become. Not who I am."
BANG!
The shot echoed like thunder. The Third Jihad's body collapsed to the floor. A slow pool of blood spread beneath him.
Jay gasped. Jihad didn't blink.
He walked over to Jay, helped him up, and looked one final time at the body.
---
Final Scene
Jay (whispering): "It's over?"
Jihad:
> "No. It just began."
Jay looked at him.
Jihad:
> "One universal door opened. There could be more."
And with that, they both stared into the mirror — the same mirror Jihad once spoke to his other self through.
Nothing reflected back… but their own shadows.