The chandelier crashed down in a symphony of shattering crystal, but I was already moving—not toward safety, but straight into the storm of falling glass. Shards sliced my cheeks as I lunged for the baby.
My fingers brushed the blood-soaked tablecloth just as a hand clamped around my ankle.
The original Lu Chen yanked me backward with preternatural strength. His face—*my face*—was haggard, a network of fresh scars crisscrossing his neck. "Don't touch her," he growled. "That's not your child."
Not-Anya's laughter bubbled up from across the room, Mu's voice distorting Anya's vocal cords into something alien. "Oh, but it is. Flesh of his flesh. Blood of *all* our bloodlines."
The baby began to cry. Not the mewling of a newborn, but a piercing, intelligent wail that made the remaining windows vibrate.
**[System Override]**
*▶ Biological scan complete*
*▶ Genetic match: 61% Lu Chen, 39% [ERROR: DATA CORRUPTED]*
*▶ Epigenetic age: 27 years*
The original Chen shoved a pistol into my hand—an antique revolver with symbols etched into the barrel. "For concepts," he muttered. "Aim for the eyes."
Our son chose that moment to detonate his next surprise.
The piano exploded.
---
### **SECTION BREAK: FLASHBACK**
*Three loops ago*
Mu's laboratory smelled of formaldehyde and betrayal. Rows of glass tanks lined the walls, each containing a floating fetus at different stages of development.
"Project Second Chance wasn't about time loops," the original Chen whispered as we crouched in the ventilation shaft. "It was about *spares*."
Tank #17 held the answer—a twelve-year-old boy suspended in amber fluid, his face a perfect mirror of mine.
Mu's voice echoed from the speakers: *"When the primary heir fails, we simply reboot from backup."*
The boy in the tank opened his eyes.
---
### **PRESENT DAY**
I fired the revolver through the smoke.
The bullet struck Not-Anya between the golden eyes, but she just smiled wider as the wound knitted itself shut. "Poor Chen. Still trying to shoot the ocean."
The original Chen tackled her while I grabbed the screaming baby. Its skin burned against mine, tiny fingers latching onto my wrist with impossible strength. The System screeched warnings:
*▶ Neural link detected*
*▶ Memory extraction in progress*
*▶ Termination advised*
Then I saw it—the truth the baby had pulled from my mind.
The first loop. The *real* first loop, before the System, before the betrayals.
Anya and I standing over Mu's corpse together.
Holding hands.
*Winning.*
The baby giggled.
The original Chen's revolver clicked empty.
Not-Anya's body collapsed—but the golden light simply transferred to our son, his eyes flashing with Mu's consciousness.
"Checkmate," he whispered.
Then the baby inhaled sharply...
And began *rewinding* time itself.