Chapter 399: _The Future Isn’t Fixed Anymore

The Black Mask’s Pocket Dimension

A couple of minutes must’ve passed since Future Ambrose led Rose to the one thing they’ve been getting wrong about the Archon roaming Aurelia.

The SS-Rank was still left speechless.

That blood the police found in the LA hotel room wasn’t random. Somewhere out there—a person who was supposed to be dead had their skin being worn by an Archon.

All they knew now was that she was a blonde woman.

But if they stopped asking who killed the man at the bar and started asking who walked out of that hotel room...

"Yeah, I’ve got to go tell the others," Ambrose gazed at his future self.

Future Ambrose regarded him for another long moment before the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"There is something else you’ve wanted to ask me for quite some time."

Ambrose blinked.

Oh?

"...Is it that obvious?"

"It usually is."

A chuckle escaped him as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Well... since we’re already here..." He shifted his weight awkwardly. "I’ve honestly been wondering about Orion."

The older man’s expression softened almost imperceptibly. "What about him?"

"I know Devon and I are his fathers. That part isn’t exactly difficult to figure out." He gestured vaguely between the two of them before letting out an embarrassed laugh. "What I’ve never understood is... how."

Silence settled over the endless darkness.

Future Ambrose seemed to weigh his answer carefully before finally speaking. "I had a feeling you’d ask eventually."

"Yeah, you just made that clear. And...?"

"I don’t believe you’ll like the answer."

"How bad could it possibly b—"

"I carried him."

The words slipped out so casually that Ambrose almost missed them.

"What?"

"I carried Orion."

The younger Guide stared blankly.

Future Ambrose continued as though explaining the weather.

"Loki’s shapeshifting was never limited to appearances. As your mastery over the copied ability increases, it eventually reaches the point where it can reconstruct your biology down to the smallest detail. I reshaped my body, created the organs I required, and," His eyes drifted somewhere beyond the endless darkness, filled with a warmth Ambrose hadn’t seen from him before, "Devon and I had Orion."

Absolutely nothing came out of Ambrose’s mouth after hearing all that.

His lips parted and closed several times before he managed to piece words together.

"You were... WE were pregnant?"

Future Ambrose appeared far too amused for his liking. "Yes. We were."

"No... no, no... wait."

"It’s the truth."

"No."

Future Ambrose folded his arms. "You’re the one who asked. I did warn you."

"And now I regret asking."

"But you just had to."

"I should’ve minded my business."

A laugh escaped the older version of himself. Not the restrained smile he’d shown during their previous meetings.

An actual laugh.

"You look horrified."

"I am horrified!" Ambrose threw both hands into the air. "You mean to tell me that’s a possibility? Pregnancy? Like those crappy Mpreg books I read in my last life?"

"It is."

"No."

"Regardless of how many times you say ’no’, it doesn’t change the fact that that’s exactly what happened in my timeline."

Ambrose buried his face in both hands before dragging them slowly downward.

"I don’t even know how to process this information."

"You don’t need to."

"I absolutely do! You just rewrote everything I thought I knew about my own future."

"The future isn’t fixed anymore. Remember?"

Those words gradually eased the panic.

Future Ambrose stepped closer, his voice becoming quieter.

"This timeline has already diverged from mine countless times. People who died are alive. Alliances formed years earlier than they should have. Entire events never occurred. Whether you and your Devon make the same choices we did... only the two of you can decide."

Ambrose lowered his hands. "D-Did it hurt? The whole process and... dear lord."

A nostalgic smile appeared on the older Guide’s face. "Parts of it did."

"And afterwards?"

"I’d do it again." There wasn’t even a second of hesitation. "I would choose Orion every single time."

Before Ambrose could ask another question, faint fractures spread through the endless darkness around them.

The empty black space trembled, making Future Ambrose glance upward.

"Looks like your time here is ending."

"What? No, hold on." Ambrose stepped forward. "I’ve still got questions."

"You always do."

The fractures widened, pale streaks of light tearing across the void.

Future Ambrose looked back at him one final time. "Remember what I told you." His tone became serious again. "The victim. Not the killer."

The darkness shattered.

Ambrose’s eyes flew open as he bolted upright on the bed, breathing hard enough that his chest ached. He immediately ripped the Black Mask from his face before dropping it beside him, then leaned forward with both elbows resting on his knees.

"I regret everything."

Aura’s amused voice echoed inside his head.

[Your emotional state appears... considerably more unstable than before you entered the pocket dimension.]

"I don’t want to talk about it."

[Did Future You reveal something unexpected?]

"No." A pause. "Okay, yes."

[You are aware that I may review your memories whenever necessary, right?]

Ambrose’s head snapped up. "Aura."

[Yes?]

"Don’t."

Several seconds passed.

Then—

[...How fascinating.]

His face immediately burned. "Oh, gods."

[The biological versatility granted by Loki’s copied ability exceeds even my original projections.]

"I said don’t."

Choosing to ignore the relentless teasing, Ambrose reached for his phone instead.

Business first. Embarrassment later.

His fingers moved quickly across the screen.

He sent the same message to Gabriel, Loki and Kali.

> We need to investigate the woman named ’Ramona Richards’ immediately. Don’t focus on who attacked her. We need to find everything about her before the hotel incident. Medical records. Employment history. Family. Financial activity. Every hospital visit. Something tells me we’re looking for someone who should already be dead. <

He hit send.

Almost instantly, another notification appeared across the top of his screen.

Viktor: Can you talk?

Ambrose didn’t hesitate.

He pressed the call button.

The line barely rang once before it connected.

"Hey," Ambrose greeted gently. "Is everything okay there?"

Instead of answering immediately, Viktor let out a tired sigh from the other end.

"Can you stay on the phone with me for a bit?"

Ambrose frowned.

"Of course..."