#97 Septima

by Nick Braker

She couldn’t look at him. It hurt too much. She knew what she would do.

“What are you doing, Sep?” he asked.

“So this alien artifact brought you into the past, to this time line? Here, where I didn’t die?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said.

Septima sat on her bed staring at the artifact on the table in front of her, the blaster in her hands.

“Why didn’t you save the other me where you came from?”

“I . . . tried,” he said, his voice catching. “I failed.”

“You have to go back?”

“I don’t want to go back. I have you again. To hell with them,” he said.

Tears betrayed her and her hands started shaking.

“Why are you still sad? I’m staying here with you Septima. I love you too much to go back.”

“You can’t stay.”

“Put the gun down.” He pleaded, taking a step closer.

“I love you so much.” Her heart ached. She had fallen for him the day they met, but that was a different time; a different universe. He had lost her there, but she knew he had to go back, to save those he cared about. He would throw all of that away, for her.

“Sep, please.” Tears streamed down his face.

“Save them.” She fired. The artifact exploded from the intensity of the beam.

“I . . .”

White light burst from it but then collapsed in on itself.

“Love . . .”

She saw him blur; slowly fading away.

“You.”

Her universe winked out, ceasing to exist.