The time was 9am.

  The city streets were bustling with a now foreign level of traffic. It was again how things were before. People were alive again, walking, driving, yelling at each other to get out of the way. Street lights and traffic signs took command of the roads, and people listened.

  The convenience stores weren’t run through, the ice cream parlors were open with people casually relaxing under the autumn sun before it got too cold out.

  T’balt almost forgot what it was like to live normally. Looking at it all now, it was insanity to him what man had been able to build. They started from nothing and grew to build cities that were a thousand feet high. And everyone walked around like it was nothing. There wasn’t a thought on any of their minds of murder, demons, or magical powers… except for the select few.

  He remembered that he used to be one of them. Living the day to day, taking for granted the beautiful world outside and the people that gave it life, and the dreams that occupied the air. Now that he knew how easily it was all going to disappear, he decided to bask in it.

  12 hours was all he got from the time he reset to the time things ended. Why did he have to spend it cowering in his room, waiting for it all to happen? Now with Chosa gone, that would be 12 hours wasted every time.

  Acelin sat in the passenger seat, admiring a metal baseball bat with the tag fresh on it. He spent a long time staring at it, unsure of what to do with it, unsure of why a stranger would want to give it to him. But after a while, he held it in his left hand while his right waved out the window of the car. Not to signal anyone but to feel the rushing air on his skin and to experience partly what it might feel like to fly, free to move about the sky as he pleased. He had that spark in his eye. That child’s wonder that he had been missing every time T’balt had met him.

  When T’balt saw what he was doing, he couldn’t help but laugh at how cute the kid was when he wanted to be. Even more so now. It seemed like all the Nrv stuff was just a thing of the past. Even though he knew it wasn’t. The scars Acelin would carry forever, but at the very least, T’balt was able to release one burden from him.

  Acelin blushed, puckering his mouth. “So uhh.. where are we going anyway?” Acelin asked, pulling his hand back in from the window and shoving them in his pockets.

  “Have you ever been to church before, Acelin?”

  “No. Not for a few years. But I thought church was only supposed to happen on Sundays. It's Friday.”

  “There’s no reason we can’t get some stuff done early, is there?”

  Acelin squinted at him, unsure of what this meant for his near future, but he had already told himself that he was following this man wherever he asked. The one that saved him. “Do you think my dad’s looking for me?”

  “I doubt it. Even if he was, by the time they get together a search party, it’ll be way too late.”

  “You sure?”

  “It’s alright, Ace. I think we’re fine.”

  “Don’t do that,” Acelin said, looking embarrassed again.

  “Do what?”

  “Call me Ace. It's cliché.”

  “I didn’t even think you knew words like cliché.”

  “I’m not a stupid kid, you know.”

  “Fine.. fine. But for the record, Ace is a cool nickname.”

  It wasn’t long before they arrived at the Acron church. But it didn’t look like what they expected to see on a Friday morning.

  The building itself was still clean, but there was a crowd gathered out front, none of them looking like anything to do with Zero Day. It just seemed like a passing cloud of onlookers waiting to see the end result of a house fire.

  Through the people, he could see some yellow tape stretched across one of the church doors and a couple of candles and flowers laid in front of it.

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  He never knew about any of this happening in the other timelines. He had never been to this place this early before, but maybe it was just something no one thought to mention. He left Acelin in the car to check things out, leaving the radio running for him to listen to today’s baseball commentary.

  There were several people with tears in their eyes, consoling each other and holding hands. They were crowded by the front doors. He could see Arthur standing in the middle of them. His face looked heavy with stress, like he hadn’t slept all night. This wasn’t the same Arthur he saw at noon.

  T’balt stopped to talk to an observer. “What’s happened here?”

  The man shrugged. “I don’t know much, but there were a bunch of police here last night. I think someone died.”

  T’balt’s heart dropped. Then he grabbed the man by his collar. “Who? Who died?”

  “I don’t know, man. Let me go.”

  T’balt threw the man away, remembering that Zero Day hadn’t started yet. Losing his cool now could still get him arrested. So he rushed to the front of the crowd, straight to Arthur. The man was surprised to see him, but as one would be surprised seeing a stranger charging right towards them.

  “Arthur. Where is Ellie?” Then the man dropped his guard as T’balt seized him by the shoulders. “Arthur, please…. Is she okay?”

  Arthur’s eyes fell, putting a hand to rest T’balt’s arms at ease. “I’m sorry, son.”

  T’balt fell to a knee. Inwardly, he cursed the Looter God, remembering Ann’s words to him. Abusing his powers would have consequences.

  T’balt had come back to escape that tragedy, only for it to be taken all away. Ann was gone now, and for what? For them to get the same outcome. They had to take Ellie. That was the thing so desperately at the top of the god’s list that they killed her again before he could get there to do anything about it. A sick joke.

  Acelin sat just outside the abbot’s office, kicking one end of his bat like it was a paddle ball. It was like being sent to the principal and waiting for them to finish talking to his parents inside. This time, he wasn’t the one in trouble, so he scribbled on a page in T’balt’s notebook to pass the time, clicking his tongue to match the cadence of the analog clock above him. The time was 10:35am.

  “Did you know Ellie well?” Arthur asked, handing T’balt a hot mug of tea. He waved away the steam as if it could make it cooler a bit quicker. But it was just one of those habits. “I don’t think she’s ever mentioned someone by your name, so forgive me if I don’t remember you as you do me.”

  T’balt sharked a smile. “We were good friends a lifetime ago. I was coming to reconnect.”

  “Oh... she didn’t typically tell people she was staying here. Not her family or her friends.”

  T’balt felt like he was suddenly being regarded with suspicion as Arthur kept his eye on him, but kept the demeanor of a friendly neighbor. “Our situation’s a little different.”

  That comment seemed to throw Arthur a bit off the trail. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I shouldn’t pry into young people’s business.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “A man. He came in and killed her. That was all. Nothing broken. Nothing stolen. Nothing out of place except for Ellie.” He had to hold himself back from choking up. “First degree murder, in a church of all places… who would do something like that?”

  “Monan would,” T’balt said unconsciously. It was the name on the tip of his mind this whole time. Who else would try something so blatantly deliberate? It would be just for the purposes of getting under T’balt’s skin.

  “Who is Monan?” Arthur asked.

  This was the umpteenth time he’s had to explain that question. But now he had to keep in mind that the end times haven’t happened yet. He had to be more careful about his wording. “He’s a tall guy, tanned skin, long hair… usually… and a big number tattooed on his neck.”

  Arthur considered something for a moment. Then he went to retrieve something from his back closet. “One moment,” he said, rustling through until he picked out a USB drive he had hidden in a drawer.

  He came back and fixed it to a laptop on his desk, pulling up some security footage from outside the church.

  “I didn’t know this place had security cameras,” T’balt said.

  “It's to catch loiterers and tricky teenagers. While god certainly has an all-seeing eye, we here do not. Look here.” He scrubbed the tape back to the moments of late night. The timer indicated that it was about 2:30 in the morning.

  The camera was aimed at the door that currently had wreaths and candles on it. But it was empty now, lit by a single overhead light under the cover of the night. Then, after a few moments, a man cloaked in black came through the door from the inside.

  T’balt could see him dusting off his jacket. Then he looked around until he noticed the camera, as if he was looking for it. He stuck his tongue out and showed off his middle finger. Arthur paused on the frame.

  His hair was different, braided and tailed like a historic viking, and he was wearing some huge oval earrings. But the tattoo was there, and the face was clear as day.

  “That’s Monan.” T’balt felt his rage steaming, and he started to itch to get some loot into him.

  “But why?” Arthur asked.

  “It's my fault. He did it to mess with me. Now I have to fix it.”

  “Wait…” Arthur stopped T’balt, who was trying to leave the room. “Don’t go getting any brave ideas. The police have already seen the footage. They’re tracking him down as we speak.”

  “It's not gonna matter,” T’balt said.

  “How do you mean?” And Arthur looked at him with that strange look, the one people always gave him whenever he said something that only a Redeemer would know. And T’balt explained to him what he thought necessary. That with which he could digest before the clock hit noon. He would explain everything else after.