Time is up, Rabbit

Rabbit Between Timelines

[Timeline: Future | Bangkok, 2030]

Freen stumbled out of the haze, her knees nearly buckling as the world snapped back into focus. The smell of solder and oil hit first, followed by the harsh white glow of Heng's workshop. A tissue box landed in her lap just as she noticed the hot trickle under her nose.

"I told you - not more than seventy-two hours," Heng muttered, crouching in front of her. His sharp eyes narrowed as he shoved the box closer. "I don't know what the hell will happen to your body if you keep pushing it. You want brain hemorrhage? Organ failure?"

Freen swiped the blood away with a careless flick, collapsing onto the worn sofa with a grin that was all teeth.

"Don't whine. I had to finish the date. That bitch is already hooked." She tipped her head back, letting the tissue dangle between her fingers. "Now we wait and see how it rattled her perfectly organized life. How long do you think until we notice a change?"

Heng exhaled, "а week. Maybe a little longer, until the lines sync."

"Perfect." Her smile sharpened, the kind that had once made accomplices nervous. "She'll never know what hit her."

Heng tore his eyes away from the monitor and braced his hands on the desk.

"You're forgetting who you're dealing with. She's not just some law student with soft dreams. That's Rebecca Armstrong. In our line, she's the prosecutor who'll drag you by the ears straight into court. If anyone can outplay you, it's her."

For a moment, Freen's jaw tightened, her carefree mask slipping. But then it was gone, replaced by that insolent, narrowed smile.

"Then that just makes it more fun. I'll break her before she ever becomes Rebecca Armstrong."

But beneath the smirk, her chest still ached from the jump. And when she shut her eyes, she couldn't shake the image of Becky looking at her like she wasn't just a ghost in passing.

Freen let out a slow breath. "Funny thing, Heng... you keep warning me about the risks, but you're the one who gave me this toy. Remind me-why did you even trust me with it in the first place?"

Heng's laugh was humorless.

"Because you wouldn't leave me alone until I did. And because the day I finished it, you already knew who you wanted to test it on."

[Timeline: Future | Bangkok, 2030 - Two Weeks Earlier]

The device hadn't always looked like an ordinary wristwatch. Back then, it sat on Heng's cluttered workbench - wires sprouting, the metal casing half-open, a faint glow pulsing under glass like a trapped heartbeat.

Freen leaned over it, eyes gleaming.

"So this is it? The thing that bends time?"

Heng rolled his shoulders, muttering something before answering.

"Manipulates. Not bends. Don't romanticize it. It's unstable as hell. A body in, a body out. Seventy-two hours max before you start tearing at the seams. No second copies of yourself in the same place, either. Break that rule, the machine will do whatever it has to in order to stop the paradox. And I don't know what changes will affect the timeline and how."

"Sounds thrilling."

"That's what you said the first time you stole a camera. Look where it got you."

Freen smirked. "Relax. I'm not unmaking anyone yet. Just a test drive."

She pressed the stud. For a moment, her vision fractured - light folded inward, air burned cold, and then-