I learned the truth about pain that day.
Not all at once. Not in a loud moment. It came slowly, like water seeping into cracks you did not know were there.
The war faded the way dreams do. Sounds pulled away first. Smoke thinned. The ground softened beneath my feet. Then the white came back, gentle and cruel at the same time.
I woke up in my bed.
Rain tapped the window again. Soft. Steady. Familiar.
For a second, relief washed over me. I was home. Safe. The room looked right. The ceiling crack was there. The cloud stain watched me like always.
Then my chest burned.
I gasped and sat up, clutching my side. Pain flared sharp and bright. It stole the air from my lungs. I cried out before I could stop myself.
My hands shook as I pressed against my ribs.
Something was wrong.
I had been hit when the building shook. I remembered it now. A piece of stone. A hard fall. I had felt it then, but fear had pushed it aside.
It should be gone.
The world had reset.
But the pain stayed.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood slowly. Each breath hurt. My vision blurred. Sweat broke across my skin.
"No," I whispered. "No no."
I lifted my shirt with trembling fingers.
A bruise spread across my side. Dark. Angry. Real.
My stomach twisted.
The room felt smaller. Closer. Like the walls were leaning in to listen.
I stumbled to the mirror. My reflection stared back at me. Pale. Eyes wide. Something like disbelief frozen on my face.
The mark was there.
I touched it lightly and flinched.
Pain crossed the loop.
The thought settled heavy in my mind.
I did not go to work.
I could not. Every step hurt. Every breath reminded me that the rules were changing again. I sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, trying to think.
If pain stayed, what else could stay.
Fear crawled into places I did not want to look.
I wrapped my side and went out anyway. I needed to see her. I needed to know if I was alone in this too.
The bakery bell rang. Warm air met my face. The woman smiled. Same smile. Same words.
But I barely noticed.
She was there.
Lena stood near the window, holding a cup she had not touched. Her eyes found mine right away. Relief flickered across her face. Then concern.
She saw how I moved.
"You are hurt," she said.
I nodded.
Her face tightened. She stepped closer, careful.
"From before," she said.
"Yes."
She drew in a sharp breath. Slowly, she pulled back her sleeve.
A thin line crossed her arm. Red. Fresh.
"I burned it," she said quietly. "In the fire."
My heart sank.
We did not speak for a moment. The truth filled the space between us without words.
The world resets clean.
We do not.
Outside, the rain stopped again.
I laughed softly. It came out wrong. Bitter.
"So it keeps what it wants," I said.
She nodded.
We left together. Walked slowly. Watched everything. The street froze for a breath, then moved on like nothing happened.
At the crosswalk, the light changed. We waited. The man hummed. Same tune.
My side throbbed.
We crossed safely.
Back in my apartment, we sat on opposite sides of the room. The air felt heavy. Like the room remembered things it should not.
"This means dying is not free," she said.
I nodded.
"If we die enough times," she went on, "what happens to us."
I did not answer.
Because I did not know.
Because I was afraid of the answer.
Later, the day shifted again.
Not white. Not sudden.
The room faded like old ink.
When I opened my eyes, we were back there.
The war.
Smoke clawed at the sky. Shouts echoed around us. My side screamed in protest as I moved.
Pain stacked on pain.
I bit back a cry.
We ran.
This time, we did not hide.
A group of soldiers rushed past us. One of them stumbled. He fell hard near my feet. I reached out without thinking.
He looked up at me.
Young. Dirt smeared across his face. Fear bright in his eyes.
"Help," he said.
I froze.
His name came to me before I understood why.
Jonah Reed.
I had never met him before.
But somehow, I knew.
I pulled him up. He leaned on me, heavy and shaking. My side flared in pain. Stars burst behind my eyes.
He did not notice.
We dragged him into cover. A broken wall. Half standing.
Jonah pressed his back against it and slid down. Blood soaked his coat. Too much.
He looked at me like he trusted me.
That hurt worse than my ribs.
"You should not be here," he said.
Neither should you, I wanted to say.
But the words stayed inside.
The noise grew louder. Too close.
Lena crouched beside us. Her face was tight. Focused. Strong.
Jonah smiled at her. Soft. Tired.
"It is alright," he said. "It always ends this way."
My breath caught.
"What do you mean," I asked.
He looked at me, confused.
Then fear flashed across his face.
"I do not know why I said that," he whispered.
The world shook.
A blast tore through the wall.
I felt the impact before I saw it.
Pain exploded in my side. Worse than before. I screamed.
The ground rushed up.
White swallowed everything.
I woke up gasping.
Rain. Bed. Ceiling.
My body felt like it was on fire.
I cried out. Loud. Broken.
The bruise had spread. Darker. Deeper.
I curled in on myself and shook.
The loop had reset.
Jonah was gone.
But the pain stayed.
I lay there, breathing through it, understanding something I did not want to know.
Time was not kind.
It was careful.
It let the world forget.
But it made sure we remembered.
And it was keeping score.
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