Yoon's eyes fluttered open to the familiar, disorienting swirl of colors and sounds. The festival's entrance was once again before her, unchanged, as if the chaos of moments ago had never happened. The lingering echo of the explosion still buzzed in her ears, the acrid smell of smoke lingering in her nostrils.
She stumbled to her feet, her mind racing. Each loop felt more draining than the last. The festival's bright lights and cheerful music contrasted sharply with the dark reality she faced. Panic gnawed at her as she tried to process the repetition of her nightmare. Each reset made it harder to keep her composure, the weight of her failures pressing down on her.
Determined to find a way out, Yoon focused on the bomb. She knew it was only a matter of time before it would reappear, and she had to act quickly. As she scanned the crowd, her eyes fell on the teddy bear again—a soft, innocuous toy that held the key to her recurring suffering.
She maneuvered through the bustling festival, her heart pounding in her chest. Her mom, blissfully unaware of the danger, was still at the festival, her eyes scanning the booths with a sense of innocent excitement. Yoon's frustration boiled over as she realized how powerless she felt to protect her.
Ignoring the growing unease in her gut, Yoon grabbed the teddy bear with shaking hands. She ran toward a secluded corner, hoping to find a place where she could deal with it away from the crowd. Her fingers fumbled with the bear, her breaths coming in short, uneven gasps.
The seconds ticked by slowly, each moment stretching into an eternity. Just as she was about to throw the bear away, she hesitated, her mind racing. The bear felt heavier than before, the anticipation of the explosion mounting with each heartbeat. Her eyes darted around, searching for a safer place, but the festival was still packed with people, their laughter and shouts mingling with her growing dread.
With a deep breath, Yoon hurled the teddy bear as far as she could. Her aim was off; the bear soared into the air, but instead of safely exploding in the distance, it veered back toward the crowd. Panic surged through her as she realized the mistake. The explosion was imminent, and there was no way to correct her error.
A deafening roar filled the air as the bear detonated above the festival grounds. The explosion was catastrophic, sending debris and shrapnel raining down on the unsuspecting crowd. The vibrant, festive atmosphere turned into a scene of horror, screams piercing through the night as people scrambled for safety.
Yoon watched in horror as chaos unfolded around her. Her failed attempt to save the crowd had only led to more suffering. Despair and guilt overwhelmed her as she witnessed the fallout of her actions. The festival, once a symbol of joy, had become a graveyard of shattered dreams and broken lives.
The authorities arrived quickly, their sirens blaring as they rushed to the scene. Yoon, covered in soot and tears streaming down her face, found herself at the center of a storm of questions and accusations. The weight of her actions pressed heavily on her shoulders as police officers swarmed around her, trying to piece together what had happened.
As the police took her away, Yoon could barely process the magnitude of her situation. The festival grounds were now a chaotic mess of emergency responders and injured people. Her desperate attempts to explain that she had been trying to prevent a disaster were lost in the cacophony of confusion and anger.
The media quickly caught wind of the incident, and Yoon became a focal point of public outrage. News reports painted her as a reckless figure, a scapegoat for the tragedy that had unfolded. The once-celebrated festival had become a symbol of catastrophe, and Yoon was now at its epicenter.
Her arrest and the ensuing investigation dragged on, the days blending into one another. Yoon was subjected to relentless questioning, her actions scrutinized under a harsh spotlight. The reality of her situation began to sink in as she faced the possibility of severe legal consequences for her unintended role in the disaster.
In the confines of her cell, Yoon struggled to come to terms with the weight of her choices. The isolation and the constant reminders of her failure weighed heavily on her. The heartless girl she had once idolized now seemed like a distant fantasy, a figure she could never hope to emulate amidst the chaos of her own life.
Each reset brought her back to the same point of despair, with no clear path to escape the endless cycle. The prison cell, once a place of potential reflection and redemption, now felt like another prison within her already fragmented existence. Yoon's journey was far from over, and the path to breaking free from the endless rebirth seemed more elusive than ever.