Volume 1 · Chapter 4Sketchbook of Endless Days
Morning arrived without sunlight.
Instead, the skies over Cadence turned from bruised green to a dull, glassy gray—as if the heavens themselves were trapped behind an old screen, flickering with static. Ren stood near the edge of the overpass ruins, staring down at the skeleton of the city below. In the distance, towers leaned like broken teeth, and streets flooded with debris twisted like veins of a long-dead god. The only sound was wind—a quiet, unsettled breath that seemed to whisper half-formed warnings.
Behind him, Chu sat cross-legged atop a pile of cushions, flipping slowly through her sketchbook.
"You always look first," she said, not looking up.
Ren turned. "At what?"
"The city. The sky. Like you're hoping it'll be different this time." She paused. "It never is."
He hesitated, then walked back toward her. "You said something yesterday. About the sketchbook."
Chu closed it gently. "It's my tether. My memory." She looked up at him. "If I don't draw… I start forgetting too."
Ren knelt beside her. "Can I see?"
For a moment, she didn't move. Then, with trembling fingers, she handed it over.
He opened the first page.
It was a sketch of the clocktower—sharp lines, expressive shading, the hands clearly locked at Day 42. Beneath it, in careful handwriting: Loop 1: Day 41 – He didn't wake up in time.
Ren turned the page.
There he was—a sketch of his face, half in shadow, blood dripping from his temple.
Loop 3: Hollow attack at East Plaza. Tried to shield me.
He turned again.
This one was different. Ren and Chu stood together, backs to one another, weapons in hand—drawn with energy lines radiating from them like twin stars. He saw fear in both their eyes.
Loop 9: We almost made it. I told him I loved him. He vanished the next morning.
Ren froze. His fingers trembled on the edge of the page.
He looked up. "I disappeared?"
Chu nodded. "You always do. Sometimes you're taken. Sometimes you just fade. Sometimes you beg me to forget you first."
Ren's stomach turned. He turned more pages—quickly now. Dozens of versions of himself. Some laughing. Some wounded. Some embracing her. Some running from her. One showed him on his knees, screaming beneath a blood-red moon.
"I don't… remember any of this."
"I know."
"But why do you keep drawing me if it hurts?"
She looked away, eyes distant. "Because if I stop, I won't remember what I'm fighting for."
Ren sat still for a moment. His gaze dropped back to the book. One sketch caught his eye—something different. A full spread of spirals, inked in red, each one smaller than the last, collapsing inward.
"What is this?"
Chu leaned over his shoulder. "The countdown."
He looked at her. "To what?"
"To the loop collapse. To the reset." Her voice softened. "The spiral gets tighter as the end nears. That's when Leviathan starts waking up."
Ren blinked. "Leviathan?"
Chu didn't answer immediately. She closed the book and held it to her chest. "A shadow in the cycle. A storm in the center. She doesn't show herself early. But by Day 30… she's hungry."
"Is she real?"
Chu's grip tightened. "She's the reason the world breaks every time."
Ren frowned. "And we can't stop her?"
"Not yet."
He stood, walking a few paces, the broken floor creaking underfoot. "So let me get this straight. The world resets every 42 days. We forget. Except you. There's something—someone—called Leviathan who destroys everything. And for some reason, I'm always here."
"Yes."
"And… if I love you, I vanish."
A long silence.
Chu closed her eyes. "Yes."
Ren turned to face her fully. "But you keep drawing me."
She opened her eyes again. "Because you keep choosing me. Every time. Even when I beg you not to."
He looked down, throat tight. "What about this time?"
Chu stood slowly, walking toward him. Her silver hair caught the dim light like threads of moonlight. "This time, you're asking questions earlier. You're seeing more. That… never happens before Day 10."
Ren blinked. "What day is it now?"
"Day 3."
His breath caught. "So… this is early?"
She nodded. "Very."
He exhaled. "Then we still have time."
Chu's voice was quiet. "Not much. But maybe… enough."
They stood in silence, the sketchbook between them like a fragile heartbeat.
Then, a distant thud shook the ground—faint, yet undeniable.
Ren stiffened. "What was that?"
Chu's eyes widened. She grabbed the sketchbook and shoved it into her satchel. "We need to move."
"What is it?"
"Hollows." Her voice was grim. "They come earlier now too."
Ren followed her out into the flickering daylight, his mind racing.
Day 3.The countdown had already begun.