A chill ran through my spine as I paced around the room, thoughts colliding in my mind like a frantic storm. What should I do?
The answer hit me like a bolt of lightning—crazy, reckless, but just maybe, it could work.
I snatched the director's car keys from the counter, my hand trembling, and bolted out the door. My feet pounded against the pavement as I sprinted toward the SUV. Without a second thought, I shoved the key into the ignition, turned it, and roared down the road.
Twenty minutes, I thought, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. It takes twenty minutes to get to the restaurant. If I drive far enough for twenty minutes, maybe they'll be safe. Maybe I can buy us time.
My grip tightened on the wheel as I sped through the empty streets. My heart thudded in my chest, every beat a countdown.
But then I saw it—the red-eyed figure.
Panic surged through me as I slammed the gas pedal, the car lurching forward. Behind me, tires screeched, horns blared. A car rammed into the SUV, then another, and another. Metal crunched. Glass shattered.
The world spun as the vehicle flipped.
Pain exploded in my body, white-hot and unbearable. I could feel the weight of the crushing metal, my ribs collapsing. Breathless, helpless.
Then, nothing.
[Crow sounds.]
The world restarted.
"The director is across the room, sighing impatiently. 'Fine. But if you're coming, you're squeezing into the car with everyone else.'"
I gasped for air, my chest tight, my heart pounding like it was about to burst. Tears threatened to spill, and my stomach twisted violently. I forced myself to push through the agony. Everyone in the room stared at me like I was losing my mind, but I didn't care.
I turned to Turbo—the white orb that hovered near me like a lifeline.
"Turbo," I rasped, "what can you do? What do you know about people calling me 'Your Majesty'? Is there anything I can do to protect myself in the next twenty-five minutes? Why can't we just go to the next world now?"
Turbo's voice was calm, maddeningly so. "I can do a variety of things, but in this form, my combat capabilities are severely limited. Protect yourself from what in the next twenty-five minutes? And as for the next world…"
"Just get to the point!" I snapped, my patience fraying.
"Fine," Turbo continued. "The next world is inaccessible due to chi waves. If a human exposed to chi prematurely enters, their mind and body would accelerate unnaturally. Imagine reaching the peak of human capability instantly, but—"
"Got it," I interrupted, my voice sharp. "What about alchemy? I used it before. Can I use it now?"
Turbo hesitated. "In your current state, no. Your body is too weak. However, if you wear me, I can unlock some of your previous abilities temporarily. Be warned—it could result in your death or unimaginable pain."
I swallowed hard. Death or pain. As if those were new concepts to me now.
Time was slipping away. I spotted a crowd up ahead and dashed toward it. If the red-eyed figure couldn't reach me, maybe blending in would help. But the moment the clock struck twenty-five minutes, every single person in the crowd turned toward me, their eyes glowing red.
My stomach dropped. I scanned the faces frantically, searching for the tall figure with red eyes. But it didn't matter. The crowd descended on me, fists and feet crashing into my body until darkness consumed me.
[Crow sounds.]
I hit the ground face-first, my chest heaving with labored breaths. My heart felt like it was filling with water, ready to burst.
"The director is across the room, sighing impatiently. 'Fine. But if you're coming, you're squeezing into the car with everyone else.'"
So that's how it worked. I could restart as long as I died.
I staggered to my feet, every muscle screaming in protest. My head spun, voices around me muffled like I was underwater.
Without hesitation, I stumbled toward the kitchen and grabbed a knife.
This is just a theory, I thought, my hand trembling. If I die, I come back. But can I control it?
Without letting myself think any further, I dragged the blade across my throat.
White-hot pain engulfed me. It was nothing like the quickness of a car crash. This was slow, excruciating, like a thousand paper cuts slicing into me at once. My breath caught in my throat, choking on blood as the world turned cold.
[Crow sounds.]
The world reset.
"The director is across the room, sighing impatiently. 'Fine. But if you're coming, you're squeezing into the car with everyone else.'"
I screamed this time, unable to hold back the anguish. The I clutched the edge of the counter, my legs threatening to give out. I can reset, but if I keep dying without a plan, I'll just keep repeating this hell.
I ignored it, my mind racing. The resets give me information. Each death brings me closer to the answer. But…how do I break the cycle without dragging everyone else into it?
I looked at the others in the room—the director, Yuzuki, Ametsuchi, Ren, and the others. They were talking, laughing, oblivious to the danger that was creeping closer with every tick of the clock.
It's not just about me anymore. If I mess this up, they all die.
"Turbo," I said, my voice hoarse, "if I wear you, what abilities can I unlock?"
Turbo hesitated. "Some limited magic-based abilities tied to your past lives. Enhanced senses, increased physical durability, and…minor precognition. But you'll be tapping into power your body isn't ready to handle. The more you push."
I didn't have the luxury to dwell on it.
"Let's do it," I said firmly.
Turbo flared brighter. "As you wish, Your Majesty."
The orb shot toward me, and I braced myself as it sank into my chest. Pain erupted like fire spreading through my veins, and I collapsed to the floor, clutching at my chest. It felt like every part of me was being torn apart and rebuilt at the same time.
Through the haze of agony, I could hear Turbo's voice.
"Your time is running out. Twenty-two minutes remain."
I forced myself to my feet, my senses suddenly sharper. The room was brighter, every sound louder, every smell sharper. My heart pounded, but I could feel the strength coursing through my limbs.
"Okay," I muttered. "Time to test this."
I turned to the director, who was now looking at me with concern. "Change of plans," I said, forcing a grin. "We're not taking the car."
"What are you talking about?" the director asked, crossing his arms.
"Trust me," I said, walking toward the door. "Just follow my lead."
I stepped outside, scanning the horizon. If I'm right, the red-eyed figure won't show up immediately. It only appears once the clock hits twenty-five minutes. But this time, I'm not waiting to die. I'm finding it first.
I could feel the weight of Turbo inside me, like a burning core in my chest. My footsteps quickened, my heightened senses guiding me. Every second counted.
"Where are you going?" Yuzuki called from behind me.
"I'll explain later!" I shouted, already breaking into a sprint.
The city blurred around me as I pushed my body to its limit, faster than I'd ever moved before. If I can find it before it finds us, maybe I can change the game.
The clock ticked down relentlessly. Twenty minutes. Eighteen. Fifteen.
And then I felt it—a suffocating wave of malice. My vision blurred, and the world seemed to darken as a shadowy figure stepped out from an alley.
Its eyes glowed crimson, and it smiled—a chilling, inhuman grin.
"So, you've decided to find me first," it said, its voice dripping with venom.
My body screamed at me to run, but I stood my ground, my fists clenched. "No more games," I said, forcing the fear out of my voice. "This ends now."
The figure tilted its head, amused. "Bold. But you don't even know the rules yet."
It lunged, faster than I could react, and I barely managed to dodge. The pavement cracked where it struck, and I realized just how outmatched I was.
But this time, I wasn't going down without a fight.
"Turbo," I whispered, "unlock everything you can. Even if it kills me."
"As you command, Your Majesty," Turbo replied.
Power surged through me, blinding and all-consuming. My muscles burned, my vision sharpened, and for the first time, I felt like I had a chance.
The figure came at me again, but this time, I moved faster, meeting its attack head-on. The impact sent shockwaves through the air, and I gritted my teeth, pushing back with everything I had.
I don't need to win. I just need to buy enough time to figure out how to break the loop.
The fight raged on, each second feeling like an eternity. My body ached, my vision blurred, but I refused to give in.
And then, in the midst of the chaos, an idea sparked—a desperate, reckless idea that just might work.
I let the figure strike me, its claw piercing through my chest. Pain exploded, but I held on, my fingers curling around its arm.
"You messed with the wrong person," I growled, blood spilling from my lips.
With the last of my strength, I activated the latent alchemy within me, using the figure's own energy against it. A blinding light erupted, consuming us both.
Darkness fell.
[Crow sounds.]
The world restarted.
The director was across the room, sighing impatiently. "Fine. But if you're coming, you're squeezing into the car with everyone else."
I opened my eyes, gasping for air. My chest ached, and my body felt like it had been crushed.
But I was alive.
And this time, I had a plan.
So this is what eternity feels like: a loop of death and failure.
Every 25 minutes, I die. Every time, my chest burns hotter, the pain spreading further, deeper, until it feels like my entire being is unraveling. Each time I reset, the pain lingers a little longer, as if my body remembers the agony even when the world doesn't.
And each time, I see him—the red-eyed figure. His haunting grin, his merciless presence. He is always there, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Death after death. Attempt after attempt. I watch my friends—no, my family—die over and over again. Ametsuchi, Ren, Yuzuki, even the director. Each death etches itself into my mind like a scar, each scream replaying in my memory like a ghostly echo. It's maddening.
But I can't stop.
Every death teaches me something new: a pattern in his movements, a weakness in his attacks, a fleeting opportunity to turn the tide. I learn, I adapt, and I push forward, even as the weight of each reset drags me closer to the edge of insanity.
The first few deaths were horrifying. The panic, the desperation, the gut-wrenching terror of realizing there was no escape. But now…now it's routine. I jump off buildings. I let shattered glass pierce my veins. I throw myself into death's embrace with calculated precision because each death is a step closer to saving them.
Saving all of them.
I could find a way to survive on my own. I know that now. I've discovered routes and strategies that would ensure my safety. But that's not enough. It's never enough.
If I survive alone, it means I've failed. It means I've abandoned them. And that's something I'll never accept. So even if I find a way to live, I'll throw it all away—throw myself away—until I can find a path where they survive too.
The loop isn't just about endurance anymore. It's about strategy.
I've started piecing together the puzzle. I've learned more about my friends than I ever thought possible. Ren hums a soft tune under his breath when he's nervous. Yuzuki bites the inside of her cheek when she's lost in thought. Ametsuchi, as shy as she seems, always glances at her reflection when she thinks no one's looking, as if trying to remind herself she exists.
But they know nothing about me. Every time they die, their memories reset. I'm the only one who remembers. I'm the only one who carries the weight of our failures.
So I am the one who has to save them.
The red-eyed figure isn't the only enemy. Time itself is my opponent, grinding me down with every loop. My chest is a constant ache now, a sharp, suffocating pain that never truly leaves. The feeling of being crushed alive, of being burned and frozen at once—it stays with me. It's like my body is rejecting the resets, slowly breaking apart with each attempt.
Turbo tries to warn me, but I don't care.
"You're going to lose yourself," it says. "Every death chips away at your humanity. How long until you're just a machine, calculating outcomes without feeling anything?"
I ignore it. Feelings don't matter anymore. Only results do.
The cycle continues. Ninety-nine times. Ninety-nine deaths.
By the 50th loop, I've perfected how to die efficiently. By the 70th, I've memorized every movement of the red-eyed figure. By the 90th, I'm not even afraid anymore.
But now…now I'm at my limit.
The pain in my chest is unbearable. It's not just physical anymore—it's in my mind, my soul. It's as if the universe itself is screaming at me to stop, to give up, to let it all end.
But I won't.
I can't.
This loop may break me, but I'll save them. Even if I lose myself in the process, even if I become something unrecognizable, I'll make sure they survive.
Because they're all I have left.
And I'll keep dying, over and over again, until I get it right.