POV: Time Variance Authority

Elias headed toward the west side of the plaza. According to his previous dreams, Cipher would spawn there. It didn't take long before he spotted his target:

A woman wearing a tight, black bodysuit under a checkered trench coat, her long brown hair piled high in a chignon, and an Ultraman (hero) mask covering her face. She was unmistakably Cipher.

Previously, Elias had glimpsed Cipher in the bank vault wearing only the black bodysuit—a sleek, agent-like outfit. She must have realized it drew too much attention in a crowd, so for their rendezvous, she wore a long overcoat to blend in.

Her hair was twisted into a tall coil at the back of her head, tied with a red ribbon—voluminous, giving the impression of an enviable amount of hair. But the truth was… there was a gun hidden inside that bun. Cipher carried two guns—one at her waist, and another concealed in her hair.

"A dangerous woman," Elias thought, as he slowly approached, sizing up her figure. She was lithe, about five-foot-five or so, and alarmingly agile. There was something contradictory in how she felt entirely alien, yet eerily familiar. He could swear he had heard her voice somewhere in real life, but the notion that he had once met someone with a model's build and had no recollection baffled him.

Well, no more speculation, he decided, stepping forward. I'll find out who—or what—she really is once I get that mask off.

He walked right up behind her. "Hey," he said.

Cipher turned, regarding him through the eye slits of her hero mask. "Yes?" she asked cautiously.

Elias gave a brief nod. "They call me Claw around here. So, you can just call me 'Claw.'"

He gestured to a van parked on the roadside. "Car's over there. Follow me."

He turned and began walking—only to feel a sudden clamp on his shoulder.

"Hold on." Cipher's voice was taut, brimming with suspicion. Her slim, leather-gloved hand kept him from moving. "You say they call you 'Claw'? Then why isn't your build… bigger?" she asked. "Shouldn't you have a huge face if that's your nickname?"

A ripple of hot summer wind stirred the red ribbon in her hair, fluttering the coat's hem. Tension crackled between them as they sized each other up.

Elias realized, with a sinking feeling, that posing as Claw wasn't as simple as just wearing the mask. He'd fooled the real Claw once by using the hero mask, but that was only because the real Claw was gullible. Cipher, on the other hand, was vastly more perceptive. She might not know Claw's voice, appearance, or identity—but she could still sense that Elias's temperament didn't match a hardened criminal.

He reminded himself that even so, her suspicion wasn't conclusive evidence. He still had a chance to salvage this.

Standing a bit straighter, Elias slowly turned to face her. Cipher's right hand pressed on his shoulder, while her left hand hovered near the gun at her belt.

"Since when does a name have to be so literal?" he said, matching her unyielding stare.

With that, he firmly swatted away her gripping hand, giving her no chance to retort, then turned and strode back to the van. "Come or don't," he said over his shoulder. "Even without you, I can blow open that vault with C4. I don't need your hacking."

He hopped into the driver's seat, slammed the door, and revved the engine with a squeal of tires.

"Wait!" Cipher shouted.

She caught up and yanked open the passenger door. Settling into the seat, she folded her arms and shot him a cold look, clearly still harboring distrust.

Elias extended his right palm. "Hand over your gun."

"What for?" Cipher replied tersely. "What? am I supposed to use—my bare hands?"

"You can keep the one in your hair." He glanced at her. "That should do."

Her eyes went wide behind the mask. She ended up removing the pistol at her hip, slapping it into Elias's hand, then tugged at the red ribbon around her bun. With a whisper of silk, her thick hair unfurled like a waterfall, and a second black pistol slid into her hand.

She clamped the ribbon between her teeth, expertly retying her hair. Elias, meanwhile, examined the first gun, briskly ejecting the magazine to check the rounds before snapping it back in place and chambering a round—a fluid movement done in the space of a heartbeat. Then he slid it into his waistband, eyes fixed on the road, pretending indifference.

Inwardly, he exhaled in relief. He had navigated that tense moment. So far, so good.

For now, his greatest strength was the accumulated knowledge from repeated dream loops. On previous nights, both Claw and Cipher had run circles around him, each easily capable of turning on him with a bullet. But after four or five resets, Elias had gleaned nearly every nuance of their personalities, habits, and equipment. That vantage gave him the upper hand, even if certain details—like Cipher's immediate suspicion—weren't part of his original plan.

But it didn't matter. He'd adapted. Not only had he squashed her doubts, but he'd also gotten what he most needed: a gun to handle Claw's henchmen, who were presumably lurking by the vault.

They rode in silence. Elias gripped the wheel, focusing on the empty streets ahead as they drove. It made for an unusual sight: a battered van driven by a masked "cat" with a masked "hero" in the passenger seat, both ignoring each other.

Before long, they arrived at the bank. Elias pulled the gun from his waist and motioned for Cipher to step out. "Grab your laptop. Let's move."

They hurried to the entrance, where a henchman in black fiddled with the lock. He looked up, face twisted in confusion. "You—"

Bang!

Elias's bullet tore through the man's forehead. Blood spattered in a grim arc.

"Nice shooting," Cipher remarked, sounding impressed. She had watched closely, noticing how he fired the instant he raised his gun, no apparent aiming. If hitting a stationary target was easy, this was on another level. A moving head shot in darkness, executed in a split second, was the mark of a virtuoso.

"But why kill your own man?" Cipher queried.

Elias shoved open the door. "He has sticky fingers. Such a man can't be trusted."

They walked deeper, rounding a corner. Another thug sprang to his feet in alarm. "Hey—"

Bang!

Another shot through the head. No hesitation. No miss.

"That one too?" Cipher probed.

"He tried sweet-talking someone's wife," Elias muttered. "Figure it out."

Cipher just stared. "Your wife?"

Elias bristled. "I'm talking about someone else's wife, not mine. A bigger businessman."

They ventured forward. A shadowy figure bolted up from a lower corridor—

Bang!

Horrified, Cipher backpedaled slightly. The man had been running full-speed, yet Elias executed another instant headshot in near-darkness.

"How'd you got that shot?!" she murmured, gripping her own gun. "Outstanding!"

Elias shrugged. "Nothing special. Just… practice."

He gestured to the sturdy metal door in front of them, leading into the bank's central vault. "Here we are. The stage is your now."