"You're my only shot at it." The words hung there, tasting like rust and desperation.

  He just stared back, that damn sorrow in his eyes, my eyes... making my teeth ache. He shook his head, slow, like trying to refuse gravity. "No," he said, quiet but final. "I won't be your lifeline by becoming... you. There has to be another way."

  Stubborn idiot. Didn't he get it? The clock was screaming. Reality was cracking at the seams. There was no other way, not for me. I saw the shift then, subtle, but I knew it like my own reflection. He wasn't just refusing; he was bracing. Maybe to run, maybe to try something stupidly heroic. Didn't matter. Couldn't let it happen.

  Talk was cheap, and we were out of time.

  My right hand, already resting near the inside pocket of my coat, closed around the smooth, cool metal of the micro stunner. Not much bigger than a lighter. Set to neural overload – instant blackout, minimal fuss, zero lasting damage unless you held it there for a week. Acquired it two timelines ago for situations exactly like this: when talking failed and breaking bones was too noisy.

  He started to push himself up from the bench, opening his mouth, maybe to argue more, maybe to yell. Didn't matter.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  I moved smoothly, not aggressively, just closing the couple of feet between us like I was going to lean in, share a secret. My left hand came up, casually, like I might rest it on his shoulder. Just enough to distract him, maybe guide the contact point.

  Before he could fully register the shift, before his eyes could narrow in suspicion, my right hand cleared the coat. Didn't even need to aim much at this range. Pressed the stunner’s contact node flat against his chest, right over the sternum. A faint click as I thumbed the activation stud.

  No flash. No loud crackle like the cheap police models. Just a silent, high frequency pulse that probably scrambled his synapses for a millisecond.

  His eyes went wide, then completely blank. The words died on his lips. His body just... switched off. Went utterly slack. If my left hand hadn't been there, he might have just pitched forward off the bench. Instead, I guided his sudden dead weight down, easing him sideways until he slumped against the armrest, completely out. Head lolled. Peaceful, almost.

  Damn him.

  Quick scan. Park was still quiet. Distant figures hadn't noticed a thing. Perfect.

  Stood there for a second, the micro stunner cool again in my hand. Quick, clean, efficient. Minimal adrenaline spike. Just another problem solved with the right tool. No need for dramatics.

  Looked down at my own face, unconscious under a dying sky. Time to move the payload. Bent down, slipped the stunner back in my pocket, and got my arms under his shoulders. Felt the familiar weight. Like hauling baggage across a collapsing border.