It has been three days now.
The troops were still out there, searching tirelessly. They had crossed beyond the Cave of Storms, even reaching Mount Gee — the place Tony had revived just a day before. The trail was cold, and tension had begun to build.
For Tony, things weren't any easier. He had always moved with rowdy boys — loud, competitive, chaotic. But now, here he was, surrounded only by girls. As much as he respected them, part of him wished he had some of the old gang around — just someone who understood his way of thinking.
Yamin stood still, lost in her thoughts.
Three days. Still nothing. No sign. No signal.
Her chest tightened.
She reminded herself: Stay loyal to the council. That was her duty.
No more pleading. No more doubts. The council had spoken, and Jasmine wasn't one to bend twice.
If Tony was caught… there would be no mercy.
A wave of worry swept over her — not just because of her complicated feelings for him, but because of the promise.
He said he would help return my father.
She clutched the edge of her sleeve.
But what could she do now? She couldn't convince Jasmine again. Not after what had happened.
An escapee was an escapee — and by law, they faced one punishment only.
Death.
And that… that's what Yamin feared the most.
"You prepared that, right?" Elsie asked.
"Obviously," Skyler answered, clearly proud of herself, speaking with the confidence of a cook.
Tony smiled faintly. "It's nice. Thanks," he said.
Elsie grinned as she kept eating, while Gabby stayed focused on her own task — arranging a few old items carefully into her chest. She barely said a word, completely locked in.
Tony sat on the bed, relaxed, with Elsie sitting close beside him.
"Yeah… I wanted to ask," Elsie said, glancing at the small objects Tony had laid on the table earlier, "Where did you get those things from?"
Tony didn't answer right away. His eyes dropped to the floor.
"Please, tell me," Elsie urged, this time softer.
Tony let out a quiet breath. "They're from Yamin's father. He gave them to me."
That made the room go still.
Gabby and Skyler exchanged glances but said nothing. This wasn't their moment. It felt like… a conversation meant for siblings.
Yet Skyler couldn't help herself. She stepped forward. "Wait — Yamin's father? How?"
Gabby frowned. "Skyler, not now—"
"No, seriously!" Skyler interrupted. "You time traveled, right? That means… he must have too. But he's been missing for years!"
Her voice rose with disbelief. "How could you have met him?"
Tony's silence was louder than any answer.
The weight of his secret — and what it could mean — hung heavy in the air.
---
"I remember he approved the prisoner's request, but didn't touch the hanging request," Skyler said as she fixed her gaze on Gabby. She even pointed at her.
"What's that?" Tony asked suddenly, his attention shifting as he pointed to Gabby's upper arm — just above the elbow — where a faint mark peeked out as she rolled down the cloth she'd been using to wipe her hands.
Gabby paused, glancing at where his finger pointed. She hesitated for a moment, then casually replied, "It's a birthmark."
She didn't make eye contact. Her voice was plain, but her body language said more. Her gaze drifted away, her shoulders tensing just slightly.
"Aight," Tony said, a little too intentionally — like he was noting something for later. His tone was casual, but there was a knowing edge to it.
Gabby slowly turned to look at him, unsure whether he was being playful, suspicious, or just plain curious. Tony was sitting on the bed now, leaning back on his hands with a look that danced somewhere between innocent and quietly observant.
Gabby narrowed her eyes a little. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason," Tony replied, shrugging. "Just… looked like more than a birthmark, that's all."
She gave him a strange look, unsure whether to laugh or be on guard. "Well, it's not a map to the treasure, if that's what you're thinking."
Tony smirked faintly. "Didn't say it was. But in this place, everything means something."
There was a short silence. Outside, the faint rustling of wind played against the mouth of the cave. The world kept moving, but something between them had paused — not in tension, but in quiet curiosity.
Gabby returned her attention to her things, but her mind stayed with his words.
And Tony… he watched, silently wondering if that "birthmark" was just what the old man had talked about.
"Yes… she could be the one," Tony whispered to himself.
The old man's voice echoed in his memory — sharp, wise, and stubborn.
"Avoid her. If ever you cross paths, keep your distance. She can ruin everything."
That warning used to confuse him.
Gabby? Ruin everything?
She didn't seem like a threat at first. But now, after spending days with her in this cave — eating, talking, watching her lead in moments of tension — things didn't feel so simple anymore.
The old man never liked her. Tony remembered how strongly he had warned him.
"She carries the mark. The market rule. She can undo the future before it begins."
Tony hadn't even known what that meant at the time. But now, after seeing the strange birthmark on her arm and sensing her instinctive pull in this mission, the pieces were starting to align.
And still… here he was. Living in the same space with her.
They were surviving together. Planning together.
And somehow, against all his efforts to stay focused, his heart had started moving without his permission.
Yeah, it was normal — maybe even expected — that he'd begin to develop feelings.
But this?
This quiet storm inside him? This desire he couldn't explain, couldn't stop?
It wasn't just attraction. It was something else — something deep. Something that made it hard to choose.
Because now the choice was real, standing quietly between him and the path ahead.
Gabby… or the mission.
The mission was everything. The world depended on it. Time itself could collapse if he messed it up.
And yet… the girl with the sharp eyes and mysterious past — the one who intrigued him in all measure — was right here, in the middle of it all.
Maybe she wasn't a threat.
Maybe she was the piece he didn't know he needed.
But still… the old man's words held weight.
"She can get the mission undone."
Tony sat back against the rock wall, dragging a hand down his face.
"Tony… always choose the mission," he muttered to himself. Always.
But this situation wasn't written in his old lessons.
This wasn't black and white.
This was a living question.
And he didn't have an answer yet.
Maybe, just maybe… he'd have to find a way to carry both — the mission, and the girl who might destroy it.
Or save it.