The moon was already full when she opened her eyes.
That was how it always started.
Silver light spilled through the bare branches of the tree, painting the ground in pale shadows. The air smelled faintly of night-blooming flowers and cold earth, familiar in a way that made her chest ache.
She stood at the foot of the tree, just as she had before.
Just as she always did.
"…Again," she whispered.
The word drifted into the night and vanished.
Her hands trembled as she raised them. Thin strands of light—soft, glowing threads—curled around her wrists and fingers. They were warm, almost gentle, pulsing like a quiet heartbeat.
She didn't remember when they first appeared.
She only knew they were never gone.
A breeze passed through the branches.
Whish—
The sound carried something with it. A pull. A summons.
Her gaze lifted to the moon, bright and unblinking above the tree. For a moment, she felt the familiar pressure behind her eyes—the sense that something important had just slipped away.
A memory.
A name.
A promise.
Lost, again.
Footsteps crunched softly against the grass.
She turned.
Two figures stood a short distance away, their silhouettes outlined by moonlight. One calm and steady, the other light as a drifting spark. Threads like her own connected them, weaving through the air in slow, luminous arcs.
"You woke the thread," one of them said quietly.
The voice sent a strange warmth through her chest.
She looked down at her glowing hands. "I didn't mean to," she replied. "I just… felt it tighten."
The other figure smiled faintly, sadness hidden behind gentle eyes.
"The moon calls when the loop turns."
The word echoed in her mind.
Loop.
Something about it felt heavy. Dangerous.
A sudden pressure coiled around her wrist, tighter than before. The thread pulsed brighter, tugging her forward—as if the world itself were urging her to move.
Somewhere deep inside, fear stirred.
And beneath it, resolve.
"If this keeps repeating," she said softly, "then this time… I want to remember."
The moon flared brighter.
The threads shimmered.
And far beyond the tree, unseen by them all, something shifted—
as if the loop itself had taken notice.
The world held its breath.