"So you're the one that caused all of this!" Lucian roared as he stormed forward, and his voice echoed like thunder in the vast white space.
"You did all of this, and you just sat there, didn't you?! And you watched everything, and you let her suffer, and you let me die like an animal, and you didn't even flinch!" he shouted, and his voice cracked from the rawness in his throat.
The figure on the throne didn't flinch, and he just looked down calmly, and he waited until Lucian's scream turned into silence.
"Are you finished, Lucian?" the God of Death asked with a low voice.
"No, I'm not done, and I don't think I'll ever be done, and I want to know why I had to go through all of that just to be thrown into a cell, and why she had to die like that, and why I had to die again and again and again!" Lucian shouted, and his chest was rising fast as if his lungs would explode.
"And yet here you are," the god said as he stepped down from the throne and stood in front of him.
"The Death Loop System was never meant to be easy, and it was never meant to be fair, and it was never meant to be painless," the god said. "It's not just a system, and it's not a punishment, and it's not a game either. It's a machine, and it's one that rewinds time, and it's one that alters outcomes."
Lucian frowned, and he took a step back. "So… you're saying I went back in time every time I died, and every loop I caused new changes?"
"Yes, and think of it like a ripple in a lake, and every small movement you made spread across the timeline, and that's the butterfly effect," the god explained.
"And so if I stepped left instead of right, then maybe someone died who shouldn't have, and someone else survived, and that little moment caused something bigger later?" Lucian asked while blinking fast.
"Exactly, and that's why every decision matters, and that's why the Death Loop System is dangerous," the god said.
Lucian's fists clenched again. "But you said I failed, and you said I'll be transmigrated into another body… what does that mean? Am I still me?"
"You are still Lucian, and you'll always carry your memories, but your body is gone, and your timeline is sealed, and your face will never be the same again," the god answered.
Lucian's stomach turned, and his hands dropped to his sides. "So Guinevere… she'll never know who I was?"
"She won't, and she won't remember you, and you'll be a stranger to her all over again," the god said calmly. "But you will remember her, and you will know what she suffered, and you will know how much time you have left to change everything."
Lucian stayed quiet, and the silence hurt more than any words.
"You will be placed one year before her father dies," the god said. "You will be a fifteen-year-old boy living in a simple village in Ebonrose, and there will be no powers, and no noble blood, and no easy way forward, and there will be only quests, and some will help you grow, and others will test your soul."
Lucian looked up slowly. "And the main quest… is to save her?"
"Yes, and you may do it any way you want, and there are no limits to your method, and you may kill or steal or lie or lead or sacrifice, and I won't stop you," the god said. "But if you fail again… you will move to a new body, and the loop will start again, and the pain will return, and it will never end until you succeed."
Lucian lowered his head. "I want to save her. I want to apologize. I want her to live, and I want her to smile, and I don't care what it takes, and I don't care what I have to become."
The god nodded. "Then take that pain, and use it to fuel your next life, and don't forget what you lost, and don't forget how she died."
Lucian looked him in the eyes. "I won't, and I'll do it right this time, and I'll make her happy again, and I swear I won't lose her."
The God of Death smiled faintly. "Then go. The next life begins now."
Lucian closed his eyes. I'll find you, Guinevere. I'll find you no matter what, and I'll make everything right, and I won't let you suffer again.
The god's voice echoed through the white realm with no walls, no ceiling, and no end.
"Step forward, and don't look back," he said.
Lucian stared ahead. "And if I do?" he asked.
"You won't like what follows," the god replied without emotion. "This is your one path forward, so walk."
Lucian didn't speak again. He just clenched his fists, and he took a breath, and he stepped.
Then another.
Then another.
And he kept going.
And he didn't stop.
And he didn't look back.
Don't think. Just move.
He walked like that for what felt like hours. His feet didn't hurt and his legs didn't tire. Time didn't move, and yet it passed.
Then, everything went black.
---
His vision returned with a flash.
And what he saw made his heart stop.
"What the hell?!"
He was crouching behind a rock. His pants were down. His hands were on his crotch. He looked down.
"Wait—am I—am I doing that?! What the hell is happening?! This isn't me! I wouldn't—why am I—!"
Then a voice came from behind. It was calm, but sharp. It was cold, and yet… deeply familiar.
"Bloody hell… you stupid brat."
Lucian turned just in time to see a fist.
BAM.
His head snapped back, and he fell straight onto the dirt with a loud thud.
"Agh!! What the hell?!" he groaned as his eyes spun.
Then he looked up, and his jaw dropped.
It was her.
She stood tall and furious, with her arms crossed and her cheeks bright red. She wore a simple linen coat, loose breeches, and riding boots, and her silver hair was tied behind her head in a loose braid. Her pale blue eyes were narrowed like knives.
"Ellowynne Ashford Highmoor!!" he shouted without thinking.
The name just came out. His memories hadn't faded.
And she blinked. "Why do you sound like my bloody mum scolding me?" she asked, annoyed and confused all at once.
"I—uh—nothing! I mean! I'm sorry!!" he stammered.
"You absolute pig!" she shouted, her accent sharper than the air. "You were at it again, weren't you?! You promised me you'd stop doing it out here, and you said you'd be better, and yet here I find you, hiding behind a bloody rock, fondling yourself like some lost pervert in the woods!!"
"I wasn't—! I mean I didn't—! I just woke up!! I swear I didn't mean to—this isn't—this really isn't what it looks like!!" Lucian said, but his voice cracked from the panic.
She grabbed a twig, broke it, and threw it at him. "You better not be making excuses, you damn mule! You're fifteen, and you act like a half-baked hound sniffing his own tail!"
Lucian backed up and pulled his pants up. "I swear! I really don't know how this happened! I think—I think I got possessed!"
Ellowynne raised a brow. "Possessed by what? A ghost with no shame?"
Lucian just stood there and smiled awkwardly. God of Death… you better be laughing right now…
Then she sighed, looked away, and crossed her arms again. "Get up. We're going to be late. You have chores, and I'm not covering for your lazy arse again."
Lucian blinked.
Right… I'm in a village. I'm just a boy now. I'm in Ebonrose… and I have one year. One year before Guinevere's hell begins.
He stood and dusted himself off. "Alright. Let's go."
She turned without another word, but her ears were still red. And as she walked ahead, she muttered under her breath.
"…Stupid brat."
Lucian walked behind her, still stunned.
So this is the new start… and she's my childhood friend, huh? Damn it… what a way to begin.
The village was small and quiet, and snowflakes fell gently from the gray sky, coating the wooden roofs like a soft blanket.
The houses looked like cabins, made from thick logs with smoke curling from their chimneys, and the cold bit through the air, but the people moved about like it was nothing.
Lucian paused, looking around.
Wait… am I still me? Am I really Lucian?
He turned to Ellowynne, who was walking beside him with her hands shoved deep in her coat pockets.
"Hey," he asked, "Who am I again? I forgot who I am after you punched me..."
She glanced at him and smirked, "You're Luciano. Luciano Ashford."
"Luciano?" he repeated, and it felt strange on his tongue.
"Yeah, Luciano. Weird, huh?"
He nodded slowly, thinking. So I'm still Lucian… just called Luciano now.
When they reached a small wooden house at the edge of the village, he stopped.
"This is my home?"
Ellowynne nodded. "Yeah, this is where you live. And your family's inside."
He took a deep breath and stepped inside.
Warmth hit him as he entered, and the smell of stew and wood smoke wrapped around him like a hug.
There was a woman at the hearth stirring a pot. She looked up and smiled when she saw him.
"Luciano! You're back!"
His heart clenched.
And then a younger girl came running in, smiling wide. "Big brother!" she yelled, grabbing his hand and pulling him close.
Lucian smiled, and for a moment, everything felt real.
He spent the day helping around the house.
He cleaned floors, swept ashes from the hearth, and even fixed a loose door hinge, while his mother watched with pride and his sister laughed at his clumsy attempts to carry firewood.
When the sun started to dip behind the snowy hills, Ellowynne pulled him outside.
"Come on, Luciano," she said, "I'll teach you how to hunt, or you're gonna starve this winter."
He followed her through the woods, learning how to move quietly, how to track footprints in the snow, and how to use a bow.
"It's not easy," she warned, "but you gotta keep trying if you want to survive."
Lucian nodded and gripped his bow tighter, thinking about Guinevere and the time he had left.
I have to get stronger. I have to save her. No matter what.
And as the snow kept falling, Luciano took his first real steps toward that impossible goal.