Queen Lyra's kingdom was a grotesque Eden. Bioluminescent roses coiled around skyscrapers, their thorns impaling hybrids and humans alike. Citizens shuffled in trance-like obedience, their eyes veined with cobalt, petals blooming from their mouths. At the city's heart stood a palace of living vines, where Lyra's throne pulsed with the merged timeline's corruption.
Older Kael crouched in the ruins of a market stall, Young Kael and Lira at his side. Past Gideon's hands, now fully rotted, trembled as he sketched glyphs in the dirt. "Her control is tied to the central rose—the Crown. Destroy it, and the hive mind fractures."
Young Lira peered at the palace, her aged hand gripping a stolen dagger. "How do we get close?"
"We don't." Older Kael nodded to the crowds. "They'll swarm us the moment she senses rebellion."
A shadow fell over them.
Older Kael's mother stood above, her regal gown woven with roses, her eyes a serene cobalt. "You've returned," she said, no recognition in her voice. "Her Majesty awaits."
Young Kael surged forward. "We're not going any—"
She pressed a thorned fingertip to his lips. "Hush, child. The Queen's song is peace. You'll learn to love it."
Older Kael stepped between them. "Mother, it's me."
Her gaze lingered on his scar. "You… remind me of someone I mourned. A son who abandoned us."
"I didn't abandon you. Gideon took you."
"Gideon?" She smiled. "Our Queen's loyal gardener. He tends her roses."
Past Gideon stiffened. "What?"
The crowd stirred. Roses trembled as a distant horn blared—Lyra's summons.
"Come," his mother said. "The Queen is merciful to lost things."
They followed, cloaked in stolen hybrid pelts. The palace thrummed with a discordant hymn, sung by thousands of ensnared voices. Lyra lounged on her throne, her bone wings replaced by living roses, her scars gilded with venomous pollen. At her feet knelt Gideon—older, broken, pruning her thorns with a rusted blade.
"Kael," Lyra purred. "You brought me gifts."
Young Lira's dagger flew, aimed at the Crown rose behind the throne. A vine snatched it mid-air.
Lyra laughed. "Cute."
The crowd seized Young Kael and Lira, thorns piercing their wrists. Older Kael drew his shard, but his mother gripped his arm. "Don't. She'll only punish them more."
Lyra descended, her rose wings brushing his cheek. "You left me in the garden. Now I've made a better world." She gestured to the enslaved masses. "No pain. No loss. Just… harmony."
"This isn't harmony," Older Kael spat. "It's a cage."
"And what's time but a cage we all rot in?" Her gaze shifted to Past Gideon. "Ah. Here's the man who started it all. How does it feel to see your future?"
Past Gideon stared at his older self—kneeling, hollow-eyed. "I'd rather die."
"You will," Lyra said. "But first, you'll watch him—" She pointed to Older Kael. "—kill everyone he loves. Again."
The Crown rose pulsed. Older Kael's shard glowed crimson, compelled toward Young Kael's heart.
"Fight it," Young Lira begged.
He couldn't.