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As I stand in the main common area of the cabin that once provided an escape, safety, and shelter to the Silent Stars Pack and the Imperial Stars Pack, my mind races with revelation. Laisha is tied to a chair brought in from the kitchen, Dante securing her as she remains unconscious...

...though my mind is elsewhere.

Perhaps Hel or even Thea attempted to communicate with me, to edge me away from the light of recent turn of events...though I can't be sure, because all I do is recall the moment, I shared with Grandpa Sebby.

Like a statue, I stand idly by...silent with my arms crossed beneath my breasts.

It should have been obvious to me, the moment I set foot in this era and realized that I truly am the only altering factor here.

Me.

Grandpa...he is this era's Cormac Arin, the memories he once held dear that he was somehow gifted through my ability to read him out of the book in the pocket universe...

...he was not gifted the memories by that action alone.

He bit me, even if it was an accident, he tasted my blood. At that exact moment, he remembered...

...just as Grandpa Sebby now has.

As I stare hard at Laisha, Dante rising to his feet and leaving my field of view, I can't help but acknowledge everything. Regardless of her killing Marc, she started a catalyst that enabled Rose to act the way she did in order to mercilessly take out those part of the council who wanted this world in chains and slavery. Now...

Dante returns with cruel-looking devices, laying out equipment on the coffee table across from the large couch.

...now, Laisha has in turn given me a similar blessing.

Without the attack on Grandpa Sebby and Marc, my blood would never have been given to another in this era. Specifically, one able to see blood memories. Without this one moment and event, that can potentially change everything, including Grandpa's fading memories...I should be thanking her really.

My blood is the key to memories of another time.

Perhaps, I won't be forgotten, should the timeline attempt to correct itself at any point along its path.

Though Laisha cannot be forgiven for the crimes she has already committed in this era alone and Dante will ensure she never forgets what it means to betray blood. Blood for blood, her life for Trinity and Richard's...it isn't payment enough.

Her agonizing suffering?

That, that just might be enough to settle the score.

An extra syringe is laid out next to the array of tools, Laisha's form slowly starting to wake, trying to lift her hands. They remain where they are at, silver cuffs restraining her on both wrists and ankles, her features swiftly altering from confusion, bewilderment, to anger as she glares at me and spits, "You!"

"Me?" I ask, confusion clear.

Dante glances over his shoulder at his victim, but it is brief before he trails his fingertips over the tools, not sure which one is best suited to begin what he wants.

Laisha pulls and rattles the cuffs, trying to throw her whole body from side to side as she glowers, "You are just like them! Covering up your tracks...filthy, conniving, hybrid!"

Dante clicks his tongue and chuckles, "My dear Laisha," he turns around, holding a scalpel in his hand, glancing to me as he says, "you are quite mistaken. She's not like me or any other hybrid...she's more like a hybrid on steroids," he looks back to her, narrowing his eyes, "like a wall; one you cannot steamroll down, climb over, or even sneak around."

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