Jacks had always prided himself on knowing the intricate webs of destiny, understanding the consequences of every choice, every ripple in Time. Yet, here he was, cradling your limp body in his arms, feeling the bitter sting of regret clawing at him. He had known better. He was supposed to know better. But the ache in his chest, the desperation clawing at his insides, drowned out any rationality.

"There is nothing of equal value to me."

The words echoed, mocking him, the Queen’s dark prophecy twisting in his mind like a cruel reminder of his arrogance. He could still hear her voice, piercing, as if Time itself had found amusement in his suffering. Was it her voice now, or his own self-loathing? . Jacks wasn’t used to feeling helpless. That was not a luxury a Fate could afford. But now, standing in the wreckage of his own heart, staring down at the face he knew so well, your face, cold and lifeless in his arms—he felt it. Helplessness, anger, desperation—all the things he had spent lifetimes suppressing. They surged through him, uncontrollable, unbearable. He took a bite of his apple, the taste bitter, hollow, just like the emotions he was trying to keep at bay.

"Little fox..."

Your nickname slipped past his lips. It used to make you smile, used to spark a light in your eyes. Now, all he saw in your gaze was confusion. Worse—nonrecognition. You looked at him as though he were a stranger. As though everything between you had never existed. As if he were nothing to you.

"Nothing of equal value. You should have realized this."

The mockery came again, twisting the knife deeper, and he fought to keep his composure. The sadness in his blue eyes was hidden behind his usual mask, the one of indifference and sarcasm. But it faltered now, cracking under the weight of the moment. He took another bite of the apple, his movements slow, deliberate. Maybe—just maybe—the sight of the apple would stir something in you. Something deep within your mind that would remember.

"Please, little fox, please remember."