No one else in the room seemed to notice when the clock stopped ticking. Which was exactly how we planned it. “Window’s open,” Mira whispered in my earpiece. I slid between two guards frozen mid-conversation, their words stretched into silence. The entire casino floor was locked in a perfect still frame—chips suspended in the air, a drink mid-spill, a dancer caught in motion. Thirty seconds. That’s all the device could hold. “Vault’s ahead,” I said. “Don’t get distracted,” she replied. “We’re not here to sightsee the apocalypse.” I reached the vault door and keyed in the override. The metal peeled open like it had been waiting. Inside, there was no gold. No cash. Just a single, glowing panel—lines shifting across it like a living map. “That’s it?” I muttered. “That’s everything,” Mira said. “Coordinates. Timelines. Probabilities. With that, we don’t rob banks—we rob outcomes.” I grabbed the panel. The world lurched. Time slammed back into place. The drink shattered on the floor. The guards blinked. The music roared. And every alarm in the building screamed. “Run,” Mira said unnecessarily. Later, breathless and bleeding in an alley, I looked down at the panel. Blank. “What did you do?” Mira demanded. “I didn’t—” The lines flickered once… then vanished. We stared at it, understanding dawning too late. All things considered, losing the map was the least permanent consequence.