The rain struck harder this time—heavy, rhythmic, almost deliberate.
Aether stood again at the center of the deserted street, heartbeat thundering as the same glowing words materialized before him.
[Editorial Note: The protagonist awakens.]
But unlike before, panic didn't swallow him.
Not entirely.
He steadied his breath.
This is real. This loop is real.
Lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the wet pavement. The same crooked lamppost. The same overturned cart. The same distant hum of something mechanical within the fog.
And then—
A faint tremor crawled beneath his skin.
Aether turned sharply.
The shadowed figure was there again.
Exactly in the same place.
But this time, its outline… was sharper.
It had grown.
The curse.
Aether's chest tightened.
A new line of golden text slid into his vision:
[Avoid re-creating previous decisions.]
[Deviation reduces Abyssal Convergence.]
"Deviation…" Aether whispered. "So I need to act differently."
Last time he froze.
This time—
He stepped back immediately.
The shadow tilted its head, as if intrigued.
Its voice seeped through the rain, deeper now, less like a whisper and more like a verdict:
"You learn quickly, remnant."
A surge of instinct ripped through Aether. He clenched his fists.
"What are you?" he demanded.
Silence.
Then—
"A consequence."
The shadow advanced a step.
Aether retreated two.
The world flickered at the edges of his vision, like the air itself was struggling to decide whether it should continue rendering. The loop's instability. His curse distorting the environment.
Aether's arm throbbed painfully.
The broken hourglass sigil glowed—black sand swirling beneath his skin.
Aether gasped as a sudden memory—not his own—stabbed into his mind.
A hall of mirrors.
An eye made of ink.
A voice whispering in a tongue older than creation.
"Return the Fragment, stray essence…"
Aether clutched his head and staggered.
The shadow paused, watching.
More golden text flashed:
[Memory Leak Detected]
[Source: Kethris Fragment (Unstable)]
"Kethris…" Aether repeated, breath jagged. "Is that… my Fragment?"
The shadow's form rippled.
"It is not yours."
Aether felt the truth in the statement like a blade sliding under his ribs.
Someone else's Fragment.
Someone else's identity.
Someone else's fate.
And he—somehow—had stolen it.
Lightning cracked again—too close this time. The street shook. Reality trembled.
The shadow lunged.
Aether ran.
He sprinted through the flooded alley, boots splashing, breath burning. His heart hammered so violently he thought it might tear free from his chest. The world twisted behind him—the fog shifting, buildings bending unnaturally as the shadow pursued without sound.
Then—
Words shimmered to life beside a brick wall:
[Left leads to death.]
[Right leads to delay.]
Not survival.
Delay.
But delay was enough.
Aether turned right.
The alley opened into a wide courtyard with a fountain long dried and cracked. Rain filled the old basin, reflecting the lightning like liquid silver.
Aether leaned on the edge, panting.
"Think… think… There has to be a way to break the loop."
He stared into his reflection.
Dark hair plastered to his forehead.
Gray eyes trembling with confusion and fear.
And behind him—
a faint, smaller shadow.
Aether jerked away.
It wasn't the tall figure from before.
This one was child-sized, its head slightly tilted, as though studying him curiously.
"A… second one?" Aether choked.
Text flickered violently:
[Warning: Paradox Spawn Detected]
[Cause: Psychological Divergence]
"What does that even mean—?!"
The small shadow took a step forward.
Its shape sharpened, gaining edges, gaining presence.
Aether backed away until his heel struck stone.
The tiny shadow raised an arm—
And pointed directly at him.
Aether's pulse stopped.
Its voice, unlike the first shadow's, echoed like a child reciting a line from a forgotten play:
"You're not written here."
Then the courtyard fractured.
Stone split.
Rain froze in midair.
The sky inverted into a sheet of white.
Aether stumbled back, horrified—
The loop was collapsing without being triggered.
Reality distorted, swirling into a vortex of pages—literal pages—ripped from the invisible air, fluttering around him like wounded birds.
Each page had writing.
His name.
Crossed out.
Again and again and again.
Golden warnings erupted across his vision:
[Timeline Stability: 0.4%]
[Imminent Collapse]
[Prepare for Forced Reset]
Aether screamed into the storm of pages:
"WHY AM I NOT WRITTEN?!"
The child-shadow's voice drifted like a lullaby spoken by something dead.
"Because you erased yourself… Aether Caelum Noctis."
White consumed everything.
The loop reset.