The sky over Saint Verona Academy was streaked with fading gold as the last rays of sunlight brushed against the old dorm rooftops. The faint sound of laughter from the courtyard drifted through the open window of Luca's dorm room, but inside, the air was quiet—too quiet.
Marc leaned against the wall, flipping a pencil between his fingers. Luca sat at his desk, staring blankly at the save menu of the mysterious system hovering faintly above his hand. It pulsed like a heartbeat, soft but constant, a reminder that every choice still mattered.
"Still nothing?" Marc asked, finally breaking the silence.
Luca shook his head. "No… it's just sitting there. No new objectives, no timer. It's like it's waiting for us to mess up again."
Marc scoffed. "Or maybe it's waiting for you to do something dumb like confess early again."
Luca shot him a look but smirked despite himself. "You're not any better, bro. You tried to wingman yourself into two conversations at once last time."
"Hey, that was tactical multitasking," Marc said with mock seriousness. "You wouldn't understand."
Their laughter eased the tension, but only for a moment. Luca's eyes drifted toward the framed school flyer on the wall — the one advertising the upcoming Autumn Festival Re-Run. The same event they'd already lived through once.
"It feels weird," Luca said quietly. "Everyone's acting like the last festival never happened. Like it was erased."
Marc's voice softened. "It was. Except for us… and her."
A knock interrupted their thoughts. Aria's voice followed from the other side, calm but slightly distant. "Can I come in?"
Marc shrugged. "Door's open."
Aria stepped inside, her presence as still and mysterious as always. She wore the same ribbon in her hair from the first loop, and something about it made Luca feel a strange nostalgia he couldn't place.
"The system hasn't moved," she said immediately, glancing at Luca's hand. "That's good. It means we haven't triggered the reset."
Marc folded his arms. "Yeah, but what triggers it, exactly? Losing the girl? Failing the event? Or maybe something else entirely?"
"I don't know," Aria admitted, her tone a mix of curiosity and quiet sadness. "All I know is that when you loop, I… remember things. Faces. Emotions. Sometimes I write them down before they fade."
Luca blinked. "You… write them down?"
Aria nodded slightly. "Not intentionally. It's like my hand moves on its own. Words I don't recognize. Memories that don't belong to this timeline." Her gaze flickered between them. "I think I'm meant to help you."
Marc exchanged a quick glance with Luca. The weight of her words hit heavier than expected.
"Then let's figure out what's next," Luca said, leaning forward. "We're not losing another loop. Not after what happened with Hana."
Aria's eyes softened at Hana's name. "She's… changed, hasn't she?"
"Yeah," Luca said with a small smile. "She's starting to get back into sports again. Slowly. But I can tell she's still holding herself back."
Marc stretched and stood up. "Then that's where we start. Keep helping Hana, keep playing along with the world. If we fix what's broken here, maybe the system will open the next route."
"Or maybe it'll just laugh in our faces again," Luca muttered.
Marc grinned. "Then we laugh back."
Luca couldn't help but laugh too. "You're stupid."
"Yeah," Marc said. "But I'm your kind of stupid."
Aria tilted her head with a faint smile. "You two… really are different."
They shared a short dap — not the usual full handshake or fist bump, just a quiet, shared rhythm they'd fallen into since the first loop. Something real in a world made of code.
Outside, the sun finally disappeared beyond the horizon, and the dorm lights flickered on one by one. The world moved forward as if nothing was out of place.
But in that still moment between laughter and silence, Luca felt something strange — like the world itself was breathing, waiting, listening.
For the first time since the loops began, it didn't feel like they were trapped.
It felt like they were being watched.