"Now that I think about it… I've always hated my life. I used to curse it, thinking—if only I had been born into a different family. One that truly cared for me."
"But looking back… maybe I was just naïve. Selfish."
"In that world, at least I had friends. People I could rely on, talk to."
"In that world, I could do what I wanted. Skip classes. Enjoy life."
"The one who destroyed my life wasn't my parents."
"It wasn't anyone else."
"It was me."
The tale ended as a voice pulled him from his thoughts.
"Here. Drink this."
Elijah blinked, snapping back to reality.
Aliyah stood before him, a steaming cup of herbal tea in her hands. She looked worried—her brows furrowed, her lips pressed together in concern.
Elijah hesitated before accepting the cup, letting its warmth seep into his cold fingers. But he didn't drink it.
He only stared.
Blankly.
Silence stretched between them.
Dae-hyun was the first to break it, and his voice was forced into something lighthearted.
"You must've been stressed lately… Haha, yeah, I get it—"
"What could you possibly understand?"
Dae-hyun stiffened. "Pardon?"
"If you were in my shoes, what would you do?"
"What… do you mean?"
Aliyah and Dae-hyun exchanged uncertain glances.
Elijah had always been the cheerful one—their reliable friend, their dependable brother.
But now?
Now, he felt like a stranger.
Yesterday, when he had slammed his head against the wall, they had assumed it was an accident. A momentary lapse.
But now, the way he spoke—
The way he looked at them…
Something wasn't right.
Seeing their hesitation, Elijah let out a hollow laugh.
"My bad. I was just joking," he replied with a mischievous smile. "I think I'm just a little exhausted, that's all."
But his smile didn't ease their concern.
Aliyah hesitated before stepping closer. "Brother… you know, if something is bothering you, you can always rely on us."
"Rely…?"
For a brief moment, Elijah's expression shifted.
But it was gone before they could grasp it.
"If you were trapped in a challenge, knowing there was no way out… what would you do?" he asked.
Aliyah faltered unable to answer his question.
Then, Dae-hyun answered for her.
"There's no such thing as 'no way out,'" he replied. "If it's a challenge, then there has to be a solution. Maybe you just haven't seen all the possibilities yet."
Elijah's eyes widened slightly.
"Possibilities…" he murmured.
He had been so fixated on the consequences of his actions—on avoiding another reset—that he hadn't even considered taking a risk.
"Perhaps…" He exhaled. "Perhaps I need to gamble something."
His voice dropped to a whisper, thoughts racing as though a light finally flickered in his dull eyes.
Aliyah and Dae-hyun, seeing this, finally smiled.
"Well then, we'll be going now," Aliyah said gently. "Brother, call us if you need anything."
Elijah didn't respond.
By then, he had already started scribbling something onto a page, lost in his own world.
Aliyah hesitated before turning to Dae-hyun, whispering, "Thank God… he's back to normal."
Then, with quiet relief, she shut the door behind them.
*****
Time: 11:56 PM.
Elijah's gaze remained fixed on the clock, watching each second tick away as he jotted down the final sentence on paper.
After that small talk with Aliyah and Dae-hyun, he had somehow managed to compose himself.
Despair wouldn't change anything.
If he wanted to escape this hellish cycle, he had to focus on what he could control. He had to find a solution.
The walls of his room were littered with notes—scraps of paper, hastily written theories, frantic deductions.
His eyes landed on the first one.
"Cursed by the Benevolent." (A/N: Had to change this one since 'Benevolence seems a bit off)
That was the root of it all.
The reason why he kept looping back.
The curse dictated that he had to finish the prologue. Only then would the cycle end.
But the question remained—
'How?'
The condition was clear: he needed to satisfy his first viewer.
But what did that even mean? It was entirely subjective.
To satisfy someone, he needed to understand them—their thoughts, their preferences, their expectations.
And from what he had gathered, this viewer wasn't just some random person.
They knew the story.
Not just any story. His story.
Which led him to one terrifying conclusion.
"The Devil."
Who else could it be? Who else was insane enough to force him into this nightmare?
Elijah exhaled.
If his viewer was truly 'Gaia'—a reader infamous for having spent over 10,000 hours consuming web novels—then things were both simpler and infinitely more complicated.
Gaia had liked the original version of the story. But Elijah had changed things—he had deviated from his own creation, using a different protagonist, shifting events. There was no way to replicate the past.
That left him with only one option.
He had to create a new prologue. His own prologue.
And so, he scribbled down his choices:
Option One: Ensure that both the MC and Aliyah survive. The town would still be destroyed, but at least this route had the potential to intrigue a reader.
Option Two: Kill the Calamity-rank Nightmare. The most straightforward approach, though painfully predictable. Not to mention, it was borderline impossible—except, of course, for the author himself, who knew every detail of the world.
Option Three: Let himself die. Test the loop. See if it would continue.
And lastly…
His eyes darkened as they settled on the fourth option.
For a long moment, he just stared at it.
Then, with a deep sigh, he grabbed a marker and crossed it out.
"I'd rather not resort to that."
"Even if they aren't my real family or friends… they're still good people."
He began pulling the notes off the walls, crumpling them in his hands. If anyone found them, it would be troublesome.
He suddenly wished he could somehow carry them into the next loop, it would save him the effort of rewriting everything.
With that thought, he shoved the crumpled papers into his pocket.
Then—
12:00 AM.
Elijah's gaze drifted toward the window.
And sure enough—
The scene unfolded exactly as before.
Dae-hyun, covered in a hood, slipping past the gates.
Aliyah, ran after him.
Elijah took a slow, deep breath, exhaling shakily.
Then, in a voice barely above a whisper—
"This is just… a call of desperation."