| Mallory's POV |

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Remember, dear. Focus on it. Use it to locate a time and place early in Michael's life.

2015. The day that Michael's guardian grew sick of his murderous antics and threw him out on the streets, leading him to seek out his true destiny as the antichrist.

I ran the motherfucker over.

The apocalypse never happened. We succeeded in turning back time and stopping Langdon's plans, but only I knew of it. There was something incredible about seeing the world restored and the people I loved alive. But there was also something incredibly lonely about carrying this secret, and I felt more emotionally alienated than ever before. Nevertheless, I had a mission to continue.

I joined the coven at Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies. My religious parents had already suspected me to be a devil worshipper after catching me floating in my sleep, and I had always seemed different from everyone else, so it was no shock when I immediately left my family to go to New Orleans and join the coven. Except, unlike last time—when I was confused and scared—this time, I was so excited to be reunited with my sisters and my home.

Cordelia was surprised when I hugged her upon first meeting. She claimed that it felt like we had met before, and that made me smile. There was so much I wanted to say to her, but I had to wait until the time was right. I had known these women for years but needed to act like I was truly meeting them all for the first time. Still, my knowledge and experiences seeped through at certain times. I persuaded Queenie not to travel to the Hortel Cortez, where she would have died otherwise. Nan—one of many underworld henchmen who were very impressed with me—returned Misty Day to the mortal world and hinted to Cordelia that I was to thank, further impressing her. I had this strange new advantage of knowing some aspects of the future and being able to alter people's fates, in a sense.

I followed along with our daily lessons, gradually showing my strong capability for witchcraft. I could feel that my powers were stronger than ever before, despite Cordelia still reigning as Supreme without any sign of fading soon. It seemed that I had carried all of my abilities to this restored timeline, and I wondered how powerful I would truly be when the time came for me to completely rise as Supreme, though I hoped it would not be any time soon.

For now, however, the coven took notice of my power and slowly began to suspect what I was capable of. I earned their trust and quickly regained my place in the sisterhood, with rumors of my potential for future Supreme status circulating rather quickly.

It was amazing to see Zoe and our other sisters alive once again. No one, except me, knew of the tragedy and desolation that had struck our world in another lifetime. However, with the alteration of the past, certain events would not occur. Myrtle would not be resurrected, nor would Madison. I planned to bring them back, but I had to wait for the right moment. Marie Laveau, too, would remain in the afterlife for now. Timothy and Emily would never fall in love, unless by some other circumstances, which I assumed was unlikely—and sad, because they were beautiful together. And I... I just had to learn to live with a broken heart.

Every single night, though, I suffered with vivid nightmares reminding me of the horror and despair that I had just fought to defeat. I saw flashbacks of that forgotten world and witnessed visions, occasionally, of future threats that lie ahead. I knew the Devil wouldn't just give up.

Over time, once I felt that Cordelia trusted me and was confident in my strength, I knew it was time for me to come clean. I could only hope that she would believe me.

I knocked softly on Cordelia's office door, though it was open. I peeked inside to see her sitting at her desk, reading paperwork.

"Oh Mallory, come in," she welcomed warmly, setting the papers down and folding her hands. "What brings you to see me?"

I smiled faintly and sat down in one of the chairs opposite of her. I took a deep breath.

"Cordelia... there's something I need to tell you. A lot, actually, that I need to tell you," I quietly stated, noticing her examine me with curiosity and concern. "But I have to ask you to trust me—and that if I'm completely honest with you, you will believe me." I stared into her eyes, trying to convey my deepest sincerity.

"Mallory," she replied, "I trust you, completely. I want you to know that you can be honest with me, no matter what."

I nodded, reassuring myself. "Do you know of Tempus Infinituum?" I asked.

Her eyebrows knitted together slightly as she prodded her memory. "I have heard of the spell, but it has never been documented as successfully performed. A witch must be naturally gifted with this ability, not taught. Anyone who has attempted died in the process, and so it is believed to be a mere myth."

I inhaled. "Well, what if I told you that it has been successfully performed, at least once? That our world nearly ended at the hands of the antichrist, and our coven was destroyed, until this spell was used and time was reversed?"

Cordelia's expression was a mixture of confusion and surprise. "Mallory, are you saying that you've performed this spell?"

I searched her eyes for any disbelief in my words, but she seemed to believe me, just with some trouble processing the idea.

I nodded slowly. "Yes. I did. I know that must be hard to believe, but—"

"I believe you," she stopped me, her tone careful and genuine. I instantly felt relieved at her support. "Since the day you arrived, I have felt that you are incredibly special, powerful—and with a story to tell. I want to know that story."

Here goes nothing.

So I told her. Everything. I explained how there was an alternate timeline similar to our own current world, where the antichrist rose up and threatened our coven and life as we knew it. I told her about the world ending in an apocalyptic war, my life in an underground bunker, and our battle to stop the Devil. I was sure to mention the hidden dangers that still exist in this new timeline: the Cooperative, Dinah Stevens, hundreds of Satanic cults, and so on.

"It was because of your sacrifice that I was able to ascend to Supremacy so quickly and perform Tempus Infinituum. We succeeded Cordelia—we won. I went back to 2015 and stopped him from ever rising to his position as the antichrist. That horrible world is now gone, thankfully, and I am back here in the past," I explained, feeling as if I had lifted a giant weight off my chest.

Cordelia met my gaze with wonder, captivated by the thought of there being an entirely different dimension in which the world ended.

"I have no words," she commented, seeming to see me in an entirely different light. "To imagine our coven obliterated, and this world completely destroyed... it's unsettling. Then to know that you are so incredibly powerful that you—"

"We," I corrected her softly.

"You," she insisted, "restored the entire world to order..." She shook her head. "I am amazed." She breathed deeply. "This does explain a lot. As I mentioned, you have always struck a strange sensation within me. I've felt as if I've known you forever, and that you're certainly destined to do great things within this coven. This explains your knack for predicting the future, although I had just assumed it was witch's intuition," she smiled, "and the way Nan seemed to bring Misty back in your honor."

Her pride put a small smile on my face, but it quickly faded as I continued.

"Cordelia, I'm afraid that—since the antichrist and end of times was all prophesied—our battle isn't over," I said lowly. "I have recurring nightmares about the hell I lived in that other lifetime, but sometimes I also get visions of what's to come."

She nodded in an austere manner. "Mallory, you are correct. The battle between good and evil is never over. You are an extremely powerful witch, and visions such as those tend to come naturally to individuals like yourself." She pulled open a desk drawer, retrieved a black journal, and set it on the desk in front of me. "I want you to record everything that you see with your mind's eye. The past, the present, the future—what you're seeing and feeling could be our window of opportunity for preventing the next attempted apocalypse far in advance. And if something particularly important appears to you—I want to know right away."

I picked up the journal and clutched it in my arms. "Yes, Cordelia." I began to stand up, but she stopped me.

"Mallory?" Cordelia inquired.

I settled back into the chair. "Yes?"

She searched my eyes for a moment. "There's another element to your story."

I was taken aback. "I'm sorry?"

Her expression was profoundly concerned. "I am sure that with the trauma you've lived through, and the pressure of carrying this information on your own, you're mentally drained. I worry about you. However, there's a different level of sadness in your eyes. Something beyond that pressure. I feel as though you've lost something important, and it pains you every day. What is that?"

My stomach dropped, and my gaze fell to the floor. Up until now, I had told myself that I would move on—that I'd forget and be okay. But Cordelia knew me, and she could see straight into my soul. It evoked all the feelings I'd been fighting. Kat.

"I lost someone," I whispered, meeting her worried gaze. "Someone I met during the apocalypse. It all disappeared when I turned back time. I was in love with her." I felt slightly ashamed; throughout all my power, triumph, and strength in dealing with this entire situation, I was weak in this sense.

She gave a sympathetic smile. "We might live in a different time, but this is the same world. She is out there. You are still both the same people, just existing under different circumstances now—better circumstances."

I shook my head. "I've thought about this. She's back to living her life, and I want her to be happy. If I'm really this powerful and so involved in battling Satan himself... I can't risk hurting her." Cordelia frowned with empathy. "Besides," I exhaled, "it took us over eighteen months practically alone in an underground bunker—during the apocalypse—to even consider each other in that way. I just don't know if it's worth the heartbreak to even try."

Cordelia stood up from her chair and walked around the desk, sitting down in the chair next to mine. She took my hands between hers and warmly spoke.

"Now, I don't have much relationship experience," she chuckled slightly, "but I do know a thing or two about heartbreak. You're never going to know unless you try." She squeezed my hands. "No matter how powerful you are in the art of witchcraft, you need to give yourself a break to feel, and to love."

I can't even express how her words made me feel. I didn't realize it, but I was waiting for permission to let myself feel—to be human first, then a witch second. To hear my mentor and idol Cordelia give me that permission to be vulnerable—it elicited a wave of emotions, namely excitement for the future.

Suddenly, a light bulb flicked on inside my head.

"Wait," I muttered, "I just remembered something. I think—" I squinted my eyes in thought, "I believe she might have been a witch of some sort."

This piqued Cordelia's interest. "Are you sure?"

I closed my eyes, confused by my own memory. "I don't know. I remember being poisoned and killed, but then it seemed as if she revived me, on her own, with the power of her mind. I forgot all about that."

"Well, you see," Cordelia exclaimed, "then it makes even more sense for you to reconnect with her. If she is potentially one of us, she could truly be safer here in the academy."

I smiled at the concept, then shook my head in defeat again. "Except she doesn't live anywhere near Louisiana. She's a student at UCLA."

This didn't even faze Cordelia. She thought for a moment, then looked back at her desk. She let go of my hands to retrieve the stack of papers she had been browsing earlier. She placed her hand on one handwritten letter in particular.

"I might have the perfect solution for you," she smiled in wonder. "See, as Supreme and Councilor, I often have to deal with diplomatic issues outside this coven—matters all over the country and the world that involve witchcraft. I recently received this letter from a rather growing coven in Los Angeles. With the publicity that our academy has received nationwide, witches are being discovered now more than ever before, and our sisters on the west coast are looking to assemble their own school—an extension of Miss Robichaux's Academy, but for those witches on the opposite end of the country."

"But I don't want to move to a different coven," I blurted, the idea frightening me.

"Oh, no, no," Cordelia insisted, "that's not what I'm saying at all. The coven in LA is only searching for guidance in correctly establishing a school for witchcraft. If anything, at least build a better connection between our coven and theirs. I planned to send a group of my girls to California to assist them for a while, but I was conflicted on who to send—I need Queenie and Zoe here as my fellow Councilors and academy instructors. Of course, I would never ask Misty to leave her beloved New Orleans, and the other girls are far too new and inexperienced to take on such a task. You, however, are clearly a good candidate for this. Those girls need your knowledge and experience—and who better than the next Supreme?"

My heart fluttered at the possibility. I could leave New Orleans for a while and help out another coven while living in the perfect place to reunite with Kat. Another small part of me was secretly excited for a new adventure—a change in scenery, a break from this antichrist business, and a chance to help myself, hopefully.

"Who would come with me?" I asked.

Cordelia hummed. "That's the tricky part. I'd like to send another experienced girl with you, and perhaps a newer sister as well, which leads me to ask a favor of you."

I raised my eyebrows. "Of course, Cordelia. What?"

"I don't suppose you could retrieve Madison back from Hell, could you?"

I smiled. "Actually, I can most definitely do that."

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