Shun felt his legs turn ice-cold, blood rushing to his head only to freeze there. His eyes widened, reflecting every mutilated corpse, every strip of human skin dangling from the electric wires, swaying in the wind like the flags of hell. The stench of blood and rotting flesh mingled together, carried by the night breeze, seeping deep into his lungs. His fists clenched so tight that his nails dug into his palms, blood dripping silently onto the ground without him even realizing.
Mye stood motionless beside him, her lips trembling, eyes reddened. Fear slithered into every fiber of her being, yet she refused to shed a single tear. She was no longer the weak girl she once had been. In that moment, fear hardened into cold steel in her heart—she would never forgive the one who wrought this massacre.
Myria was different. She showed neither fear nor grief like the others. Her eyes were quiet, contemplative, as if dissecting some terrible law of the universe itself. Above them, the sky was gray, thick with flocks of crows cawing in madness, as though celebrating the carnage below.
Slowly, Myria raised her staff, summoning Shun and Mye closer. Her voice rang low, solemn, unyielding—like a verdict etched into the fabric of existence:
- "Law No. 99: Return of Time."
At once, a massive rune circle flared beneath their feet. Ancient characters spun and carved themselves into the earth, blazing with a cold light that fractured the oppressive atmosphere.
The light swelled, blinding, searing away sight itself. It devoured the stench of blood, silenced the crows, bent even the howling of the wind.
.
...!!!
The brilliance grew unbearable, a storm of light tearing the air apart. Reality shuddered like a mirror on the verge of breaking.
Then—BOOM!!
The entire world quaked. Light erupted into a colossal pillar, piercing the heavens, drowning the land in white.
Reality cracked, then was yanked violently backward. Space itself was sucked inward, twisting and shrieking like countless souls being crushed to dust. Time distorted, overlapping moments—images of the slaughtered villagers tangled with visions of them alive, as though the world itself was being ripped between two states of existence.
Shun clutched his head, thousands of screams hammering into his skull, echoing down to the marrow of his bones. Mye clung tightly to Myria, gritting her teeth to withstand the maelstrom of magic.
—"What the hell is happening, Myria?!" Shun forced out through the pounding in his head.
—"Silence. You will know soon enough." Myria's voice remained calm, unwavering.
Her eyes closed. Her hair whipped wildly in the storm of radiance, the staff in her hand blazing with apocalyptic energy. She whispered, a prayer directed at the very foundation of the cosmos:
- "Time, heed me. Restore what was lost. Return to them the lives that were stolen."
Fragments of shattered reality spun in the air, reflecting countless pasts. Piece by piece, they converged into a single point, collapsing into the present—
The world convulsed one last time, then with a sharp snap, it went still.
The universe drowned in absolute silence
Shun opened his eyes, standing frozen in the middle of the villagers' circle. At first his face was blank with confusion, then quickly flushed red with embarrassment. He wasn't used to being the center of such gratitude, especially when he himself still couldn't comprehend how everything had been "reset."
An old woman hobbled forward, her cloudy eyes shimmering with tears.
- "You… you are our savior. Without you, we would have lost everything."
Shun waved his hands frantically.
- "No… no, that's not it. I… I only did what I had to do."
But the old woman still clasped his hand. Her frail, bony fingers were warm, gripping as though she was afraid of losing a miracle she had just been granted.
Mye stood nearby, smiling softly. It wasn't the timid, childish smile of before, but one touched with a quiet maturity. She felt a deep pride—not only in Shun, but in herself, for having grown strong enough to stand in this moment.
Myria, on the other hand, simply observed with calm eyes. She looked at the villagers, at Shun scratching his head in awkwardness, at Mye's gentle smile. For the first time in a long while, her heart eased. The cost of invoking "Law 99" had been steep, but this moment… was worth the price.
Another child rushed forward and tugged at Mye's sleeve, eyes sparkling like tiny stars.
- "Big sis… will you teach me how to be strong like you?"
Mye froze for a second, then let out a small laugh—tender, yet proud.
- "Of course. But you have to promise me something: never give up, no matter how afraid you feel."
The child nodded eagerly, and laughter rippled through the crowd. The heaviness that had hung over the village slowly melted into warmth.
Shun stood watching, his chest tight with unspoken feelings. The images of butchered corpses still haunted his mind—and yet now, those same people were alive, smiling, reaching out to him. He clenched his fists, and in the quiet of his heart, he swore:
- "No matter what happens next… I won't let anyone die in vain again."
At that, Myria sighed softly and allowed herself a small smile.
- "We… now have one more reason to keep going."
And so, Shun, Mye, and Myria stood at the center of the villagers' circle. The glow of lanterns and firelight spread across the square, warm and golden. Tonight, there was no stench of blood, no cawing of crows—only laughter, and the fragile warmth of hope.
That night,
the village slowly grew lively. The people brought out wine, bread, even simple dishes to offer the three of them. A great bonfire was lit in the center of the square, its golden flames casting light across faces once filled with fear, now glowing with peace.
Children laughed as they ran around Shun and Mye. One little boy clung tightly to Shun's hand, his eyes shining as if he were holding onto a true hero. Mye was surrounded by the mothers of the village, all praising her for her strength and beauty, her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.
Myria stood a little apart, silent. Her eyes drifted across the bustling villagers. Everything was… too perfect. Too much like a painted image of peace, forced over a nightmare.
- "Law No. 99… it doesn't just rewind time. It stitches reality together… Then, is this really the 'present'?" Myria thought to herself.
-"Hey, Myria, what exactly is your ability?" Shun asked.
-"Law No. 99 allows its user to rewind time back to a fixed point," Myria explained.
-"Does that mean someone standing outside could still see it activate?" Shun asked again.
-"No. Law No. 99 not only turns back time but also distorts space in that area. The memories and perception of anyone outside won't function while it's happening—meaning no one can ever know it occurred," Myria said.
-"Then… is there a drawback?" Shun pressed.
-"Uh… yes. My strength is temporarily weakened afterward."
Shun gave her a reassuring smile.
- "That's fine. You've already done more than enough."
The villagers continued urging Shun to eat. He kept smiling awkwardly, politely refusing the endless thanks and food being offered. But in the midst of the laughter, Shun froze. For just a moment, he noticed something strange: the boy clutching his hand… had no shadow on the ground.
Shun's blood ran cold.
His eyes darted around — the villagers were dancing, drinking, talking merrily. Yet the fire clearly cast shadows of himself, Mye, and Myria… but none for the villagers.
He swallowed hard and looked at Myria. She had noticed it too. Her eyes narrowed, sharp and tense. Cold sweat slid down her temple.
Mye still hadn't realized, still laughing nervously with the village women.
An old man raised a cup of wine toward Shun.
-"You have brought life back to this village. We will forever be in your debt."
Shun clenched his fist and instinctively took half a step back. The old man smiled—
and Shun clearly saw it: his teeth, drenched in black blood, dripping down his chin.
The air fell silent. The laughter that had filled the square vanished like it had never been there.
Myria gripped her staff, her low voice cutting through the suffocating quiet:
"Shun. Mye. Be careful. These… are not real villagers!."
The flames roared higher, the wind howled, and the shapes of the "villagers" began to warp, twisting like black smoke puppets. Their cheerful faces stretched grotesquely into wide, hollow maws.
Mye's face went pale as realization hit.
-"No… impossible… I already reversed time!"
Myria gritted her teeth.
-"Yes. But something interfered with the flow. The same thing we saw… in the forest!"
Shun's grip tightened on his blade, rage and dread swirling in his eyes. Images of corpses hanging from power lines flashed before him, overlapping with the sight of the "villagers" slowly closing in.
And then, the children's laughter returned—distorted now, echoing as though thousands of screams were crying out at once.