Closer. Louder. Slower.
Not rushing.
Hunting.
The bikers spread out instinctively, boots shifting on gravel, bodies forming a wall between the girl and the road. No one spoke. They didn’t need to.
They all saw it now.
A single motorcycle appeared through the gray haze.
Black. Sleek. Too clean for this place.
It rolled to a stop twenty feet away.
The rider didn’t get off immediately.
He just sat there, helmet still on, engine idling low—like he already owned the moment.
The girl’s grip tightened painfully.
“That’s him,” she whispered, her voice breaking again. “That’s him…”
The biker in front of her didn’t move.
“Stay behind me,” he said.
The rider finally killed the engine.
Silence dropped again—heavy, suffocating.
Then slowly, deliberately, the man removed his helmet.
And everything inside the biker went cold.
Because the face staring back at him…
…was his own.
Not similar.
Not close.
Identical.
Same scars. Same eyes. Same past carved into skin.
The girl made a small, confused sound.
“I don’t understand…”
The man by the bike smiled faintly.
Not warm.
Not human.
“You always were slow to catch on,” he said.
His voice was the same too.
Every word felt wrong just existing twice.
The biker’s fists clenched.
“That’s not possible.”
The other man tilted his head slightly.
“Isn’t it?” he replied calmly. “You buried her. You walked away. You made your choice.”
His eyes flicked down to the girl.
“She didn’t.”
The girl froze.
Tears slipping silently now.
“What… what is he talking about?” she asked.
The biker didn’t answer.
Because something inside him was breaking open.
Memories he had locked away. A fire. A crash. A night he never let himself fully remember.
A name he forced himself to forget.
Lila.
The man stepped forward slowly.
“No more running,” he said.
The bikers behind tensed, ready to move—but something held them back. Something unnatural in the air.
The girl looked up at the man protecting her.
“…Do you know me?” she whispered.
For the first time since this began—
He looked down at her.
Really looked.
At her eyes.
At the bracelet.
At the way she held onto him like she belonged there.
His voice came out rough.
“…I think I was supposed to.”
The other man smiled wider.
“Too late for that.”
Wind picked up.
Dust swirled.
And then—
The man moved.
Fast.
Faster than human.
The biker reacted instantly, stepping forward to block him—
And the screen of reality itself seemed to SNAP under the force of what was about to happen.
