Elias lived in a strange in-between state these days. His life had settled into a rhythm that felt borrowed rather than earned. Wake up. Go to work. Come home. Repeat. It should have been dull, numbing even, but there was a fragile comfort in the predictability. In knowing what came next. In surviving the day without the universe deciding to upend him again.
Especially on days when Nico stopped by.
Elias hadn't meant for it to happen. Any of it. He'd made a clear, deliberate decision that he would not touch the main plot. Would not interfere. Would not orbit Cassian Moretti, would not entangle himself with Lisa Kelsey, would not get attached to anyone who was destined to die.
The story would progress as it always had.
Cassian's brother. Cassian's father. Larsen Roche. Nico. Those were the deaths he knew about, etched into the pages of Guns and Roses.
If he stayed out of it, fewer people would get hurt.
