The storm wasn't the end.

We should have known, really. After all, why should it have been? What evidence did we have for any of our thoughts and suspicions? We were just stumbling around in the dark, playing with forces that we couldn't even begin to understand. It had all seemed so clean - a final, impossible choice meant to close the circle - so how could it not have been true? How could sacrificing Chloe not have restored everything to the way it was before?

Well, all I know is, it didn't. Whatever we did, it wasn't enough - at least, not to avoid what came next. So I took it back. I found my power again and hell, I took both those choices back several times over before I realised it was pointless. If time isn't going to play by my rules, I'm going to have to figure something else out.

And besides, I don't want to lose my best friend. Not again.

So I'm going to do it. I'm going to stop it all: the storm; the darkness; the cataclysm; and the end of the world. Everything is unravelling, and somebody has to put it back together. Chloe thinks that somebody is me, and I guess I have to believe that. As far as I know, I'm the only one with the power to do anything about it. I suppose if time had really wanted Chloe to die, it wouldn't have given me these powers in the first place.

So maybe it's time I actually started using them. Maybe I'm not supposed to stick to the limits, after all: maybe I'm meant to go beyond them, to do something that the world can't do on its own.

Maybe it's time I became Super-Max.

- Excerpt from the journal of Max Caulfield.