The match against **Vanguard** ended not with a decisive blow, but a slow, agonizing choke. **Null Set** lost the series $6-4$.
Aris had managed to steal two more rounds, but the cost was unsustainable. The **Rewind Anomaly** had only triggered once more, providing a meager **$2.5$-second** window—barely enough time to correct a single foot placement, let alone an entire maneuver. He had to rely on his raw skill, which, while top-tier, was not the cold, perfect engine of the time loop.
The $11\%$ caloric deficit was now $30\%$. The headache was no longer a dull ache; it was a rhythmic, burning pressure behind his eyes, a physical manifestation of temporal resistance.
In the post-match debrief, the energy in the team room was poisonous.
Liam, the captain, slammed his headset on the table. "Four rounds, Paradox! We were *right there*! But in those final two rounds, you looked... slow. What happened to the ice in your veins? You were standing there like a statue!"
Aris logged the complaint: *Player Morale: Critical. Blame Projection: $90\%$ toward core asset.*
"My reaction time was suboptimal due to environmental degradation," Aris stated calmly, referencing the fluctuating temperatures and lighting on the main stage. It was a lie, but a plausible one.
Maya, the aggressive fragger, was less patient. "Don't give us the robot talk, Aris! We need you to carry, and you were fumbling. We have the Titans next week. If we lose to them, we are out of contention. Do you even care?"
*Care.* Aris ran the definition. *Feeling or showing concern for or regard to someone or something.* He did not care about them. He cared only about the **victory condition**, which was now at risk.
"I will ensure the optimal outcome against **The Titans**," Aris promised, his voice flat. He had to—The Titans were the toughest rival in the league, an older, established team famous for their unpredictable play and mind games. They couldn't be broken by simple calculation. They required the **Loop of Perfect Knowledge**.
---
### The Self-Sabotage Protocol
Aris returned to his apartment, bypassing sleep. He had to force the Rewind to stabilize. It was a biological function responding to intense stress, and he needed a more potent trigger than an in-game death.
He booted up a private server, stripped his avatar naked, and stepped onto a narrow, digital ledge high above the map. Below was a sheer, fatal drop.
*Hypothesis: Increasing the perceived consequence of failure will stabilize the anomaly duration.*
In the game, Aris deliberately walked off the ledge. His avatar fell into the digital void.
*Trigger: In-Game Death.*
*Result: $1.8$-second Rewind. Useless.*
"Insufficient consequence," Aris muttered, rubbing his burning temples. The brain wasn't registering this death as a true failure.
He switched the scenario. He entered an online solo ranked match, something he normally considered beneath him, and played as flawlessly as possible, crushing every opponent. He rose to the highest rank in a single night. Then, he found a high-value opponent, a player with a renowned winning streak.
He engaged the opponent, waiting until the score was $9-9$ in the final round. He had to lose $200$ hours of ranked dominance and his reputation in one final, catastrophic moment.
He deliberately missed the easiest shot of his career.
*Trigger: Professional Humiliation and High Consequence Failure.*
*Result: **$4.0$-second Rewind.** Stabilization achieved.*
Aris executed the simple correction and won the round, but the damage was done. The Anomaly was only offering **two-thirds** of its original power, even under maximum stress. The window had shrunk from six seconds to four.
---
### The New Strategy
Four seconds of future knowledge was still an overwhelming advantage, but it required a completely new strategy. Aris couldn't afford to waste the Rewind on simple repositioning. He had to use it to correct the **most critical, irreversible failure.**
It had to be an **information-gathering sacrifice.**
His plan for The Titans was brutal and elegant:
1. **The Flawless Bait:** Play the first round without using the Rewind, allowing the Titans to see his "human" skill.
2. **The Information Dump:** In the second round, deliberately execute a complex, high-risk maneuver that would normally be catastrophic. Let the failure occur. Die instantly.
3. **The Reset:** Use the $4.0$-second Rewind, not to fix the mistake, but to gather the four seconds of **enemy position and intention** that his move provoked.
4. **The Win:** Use that information to execute a perfect, winning counter-play in the subsequent round.
It was a strategy built on sacrificing one round for a guaranteed win in the next. It was manipulative, wasteful of his team's effort, and perfectly aligned with his cold, logical pursuit of the title.
Aris reviewed the plan one last time, checking the calculations. The risk was high, the drain immense, but the victory probability was $99.9\%$.
He looked at the small, fading tremor in the periphery of his vision. The residual ripples were getting worse, blurring the edges of his screen. He knew this power was consuming him, trading his physical health for digital glory. But Aris didn't care about his body. He only cared about the data—and the **Aegis of Champions**.
He was ready to face The Titans. He was ready to sacrifice everything, including his humanity, for the perfect victory.