ith Skulduggery’s guidance, Ryan dismantled the Doomsday Machine. He rendered each and every part of it inert. When it was done, when the last piece was made useless, his hand started to burn. He hissed, looked at his palm, and the imprint faded to nothing.

“Well done, Ryan,” Skulduggery said. “You saved the world.”

“You knew exactly what to do,” Ryan said. “You did know how to dismantle it after all.”

“I’m glad you got that impression,” Skulduggery said kindly. “But really I could have just as easily killed us all. Still, it’s better than waiting around for the experts, isn’t it?”

He took a set of handcuffs from his belt and went to shackle the unconscious prisoners, leaving Ryan and Valkyrie alone.

“How long do I have?” Ryan asked.

Valkyrie hesitated. “Skulduggery said… he said that as soon as this was over, one way or the other, Deacon’s personality would start to reassert itself.”

“So I don’t have long,” Ryan said quietly.

“I’m… I’m afraid not.”

Ryan nodded. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t trust his voice not to break.

“You probably saved my life back there,” Valkyrie said. “That was a very brave thing you did.”

Ryan managed a smile. “Maybe it’s something you’ll remember me for.”

“I definitely think so.”

“I don’t feel very brave right now. To be honest, I kind of feel like crying.”

Valkyrie’s hand rested on his shoulder.

“I really don’t want to die,” Ryan said. He was crying now. He didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was that in a few moments he wouldn’t be here any more. He wouldn’t exist. They’d stopped Foe and the others from destroying the world, but Ryan’s world was ending just the same. “It’s not fair. How come Deacon gets to live and I don’t?”

“I don’t know,” Valkyrie said softly.

“Isn’t there anything you can do? Maybe Skulduggery can do something? Maybe he knows someone who can, who can block Deacon from coming back or…”

“I’m sorry, Ryan,” Valkyrie said. She was crying, too. This pretty girl with the single dimple when she smiled, she was crying for him. This pretty girl who would never go out with a guy like Ryan, not in a million years, was sitting here with her arm round him, and they were crying together.

He fought to control his sobs. When he could speak, he spoke quietly. “Could I have that kiss now?”

She looked at him. “Definitely,” she said, and leaned in. He turned his head slightly, didn’t know if he should close his eyes or keep them open, but when their lips met his eyes closed. His first kiss in fifteen years of false memories. His only kiss in fifteen hours of real life.

They parted. His head was clouded. His thoughts were fuzzy.