Too Late to Regret: The Billionaire’s Unwanted Ex
It wasn't a Thorne.
A massive, rusted Trawler—a ship made of actual iron, actual wood, and actual rivets—drifted out of the darkness of the "Actual" universe. Standing on the deck was a man with a beard, wearing a yellow raincoat, smoking a pipe. He looked like an ordinary fisherman from the 21st century.
He looked at the dissolving Lab, the glowing boy, the shifting Sentinel, and the bleeding Creators.
"Well," the Fisherman said, his voice sounding more real than anything Leo had ever heard. "I see the Bait worked. You finally caught a big one, didn't you, Sarah?"
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