The room felt eerie, the darkness almost overwhelming. The scent of melted wax lingered in the air, used to repel insects.
Ha! Ha! Ha!
It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! No! James! Clara!
A handsome young man—around nineteen—clutched the white bedsheet, then shook it like a child, revealing the yellow-tinted, colorless mattress beneath.
Hahhh!
Suddenly—
Leor shot up, clutching the left side of his head tightly.
It felt as if someone had hammered a screw into his skull, yanked it out, and then driven it in again—deeper this time. The pain lingered, a phantom screw still twisting inside his brain.
Huh?
He turned his gaze downward, his nightclothes just a simple grey T-shirt and cotton trousers. But something felt off—
Tick! Tick! Tick!
The familiar ticking of a pocket watch rang out. The sound, once insignificant, now felt unbearable, amplified by the silence and the throbbing pain in his skull.
His silver-rimmed pocket watch was still strapped to him. Its beautifully engraved hunter-case gleamed in the dim light, its glass shining brightly.
The long hand was at five.
Five in the morning—
Was it just a nightmare?
But why am I wearing this pocket watch? Leor's brow furrowed. I'm always careful with it. I'd never... Was I drunk?
Desperately trying to suppress the growing pain, he forced himself to remember what had happened the night before.
Suddenly—
A sharper, more excruciating headache. This time, it was as if his brain was melting, slowly dissolving like the wax on the floor.
His gaze dropped to the pocket watch—
The hands were spinning.
The long hand whirled counterclockwise at an unnatural speed. The minute hand ticked forward even faster, as if it would shatter the glass at any moment.
The second hand, however, was completely still.
Crackle!
The glass of the watch splintered, fine cracks spreading across its once-perfect surface.
Ahh!
The shards broke too fast—some embedding into Leor's hand. The pain in his skull worsened, as if molten metal was being poured inside.
It's hot! It's hot!
An unbearable heat surged through him, as though he were burning alive.
Then—
Distant, warped voices. Overlapping screams. Whispers. His own voice saying things he didn't remember speaking.
"Kill James—Kill James—To save Clara—Save James—Save James—Kill yourself—"
The same phrases, over and over.
Flash.
Clara—split in half.
James—smiling, as if he had played a prank.
Clara—butchered into pieces, every slice of her flesh carved differently.
Dying. Death. Over and over again.
Crushed into nothingness. Burned alive. A dagger to the heart. Shooting himself.
Ahhhhh!
Leor screamed. Again. And again.
Another death. Then another. And another.
Johan?
Clara. James. Vane. Johan. Dying over and over again. Right in front of him.
The memories poured in, a flood breaking through a dam.
He was drowning in them. Images, emotions—so many versions of himself—dying, failing, running. Each one hit harder than the last.
Then—
He broke.
He saw the masked man taking Clara's purity.
The first loop. The very first version of himself.
He had failed so miserably.
Hah! Hah! Ahhhhhh!
His eyes turned bloodshot, as if he had just lost a part of himself. His mind was unraveling.
"Kill. KILL. KILL THEM ALLLL. DIEE. NOOO."
He couldn't comprehend why he was seeing this. No—he wasn't seeing it.
He was living through it.
Over and over again.
No matter how much he tried to stop it—
"Please STOP IT. I DON't WANNA WATCH IT ANYMORE."
The loops. After the thirtieth. They kept repeating. From the first one. Over. And over. And over.
Tears streamed down his face. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth, as if his brain itself was bleeding.
He saw Clara again. Begging for help.
No one helped.
She bit her tongue, killing herself.
It was even worse than watching her get butchered.
It was breaking him.
"Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop."
But no one listened.
It kept repeating.
Until—
Swing! Swing!
Suddenly, it felt as if he were deep underwater, a vast ocean surrounding him.
A strange energy filled every part of his being.
The same feeling he had experienced when those Numinas fought. The familiar sensation of Aether being used.
But this time, it wasn't chaotic.
It wasn't suffocating, like Vane's, James's, or the masked man's Aether.
Even though it was far stronger.
It felt... comforting.
As if someone had finally heard his prayers.
As if someone had finally stopped it.
The energy whispered, "You will be fine."
His breath grew shaky. His body trembled. The overwhelming sensations vanished. The visions. The voices. The endless suffering.
Gone.
He opened his blurry eyes.
Cold air brushed against his sweat-soaked skin. The window was open. The night still blanketed the world in darkness, making the breeze even colder.
He shivered.
Not from the cold.
From what had just happened.
"I WILL KILL YOU!!"
His entire body trembled, blood boiling. He still couldn't think straight, but one thing remained crystal clear.
Hatred.
Hatred for whoever was behind this—the loops, the suffering, the memories.
Nothing else mattered.
Only the desire—the need—to make them experience the same pain.
His pocket watch had already shattered.
Time looping might now be impossible.
Should I be happy or sad?
Happy that I won't have to go through it again?
Or sad that I won't get a second chance?
Whatever happens today... will be real.
No more retries. No more do-overs.
Suddenly—
Thud! Thud!
The room began to shake.
Just like in many other loops.
But this time—
It was stronger.
Desperately, he gripped the cold wooden edge of his queen-sized bed, trying not to fall.
The walls trembled. The air grew warm.
Just as warm as his body.
Like something—someone—was trying to calm him.
A familiar feeling.
He had experienced this before.
If not for this presence, he wasn't sure if he would have even regained his memories in the previous loops—if he wouldn't have simply relived the first one, over and over again.
The thought made his shoulders stiffen, his body shuddering with fear.
But who is this savior...?
If there was one thing he had learned in his nineteen years of life, it was this—
There is no such thing as a free lunch.
He shook the thought away.
Whatever 'he' wants from me, I won't hesitate to give it... I'm alive only because of him.
He suspected this being was also the one behind the bizarre time loops.
Suddenly—
The shaking calmed.
Bright golden text, blurry yet visible, appeared before his eyes.
But this time—
The wording and tone were completely different.
Unlike anything this mysterious savior had ever written before.