The battlefield was silent except for the crackling of distant flames and the soft patter of ash falling like snow. A lone figure staggered forward, blood dripping from countless wounds. The sky above was a swirling mass of crimson and black, as if the world itself was being devoured.
He collapsed to his knees, a broken sword slipping from his trembling hand. Around him lay the shattered remnants of his comrades—heroes, warriors, and legends—all fallen in vain.
His breathing was ragged, each gasp a painful reminder of his failure.
A voice echoed in his mind, cold and devoid of emotion.
[Travel Sequence… Initiating.]
He winced as the words resonated through his very soul.
It wasn't the first time he'd heard that voice. It was supposed to be his salvation, his chance to rewrite the nightmare—but each time, he failed.
[!SYS_ERR: #2204]
[!CRIT_ERROR: %728A]
[W@rn!ng: F!nal Tr@vel Engaged.]
[Sid3 3ffe(ts m@y 0((ur…]
The words blurred as his vision dimmed. He tried to protest, but his voice came out as a broken whisper.
"N-Not yet… I'm not done…"
Fragments of memories flashed before his eyes—his first cycle, when he'd been naïve and full of hope. The endless battles. The betrayals. The faces of people he'd loved and lost, now little more than fleeting images.
The voice continued, relentless and uncaring.
[D0 you w!sh to proc33d? Y/N.]
He clenched his teeth, his body trembling with pain and regret. For a moment, doubt crept in.
Would this time be any different?
Would it matter if he tried again?
His mind was too tired and weak to handle any more thoughts.
But the faces of the fallen haunted him, and deep within, a flicker of defiance remained.
"…Just one more chance…" he whispered, barely audible.
He fully collapsed onto the cracked earth, his broken body no longer able to fight against the inevitable. The warmth of blood pooling beneath him was the last sensation he could register before even that began to fade.
The voice echoed again, cutting through the suffocating silence in his mind. This time, it was sharper and fully clear.
[Final Travel Sequence… Commencing.]
[!]
[!]
[Error Detected. Critical Error Detected.]
A faint hum filled the air, growing louder, more insistent, as if the very fabric of reality was tearing itself apart.
[Attempting Correction… Memory Erasure in Progress.]
[Error. Data Stream Corruption—Unable to Stabilize.]
[Reset Protocols Failed.]
His head throbbed violently as fragmented pieces of himself were ripped away.
Names, faces, and moments dissolved into the void, leaving behind only a growing emptiness. His grip on who he was—what he had fought for—slipped through his fingers like grains of sand.
"W-wait…" he gasped, his voice barely a whisper. He tried to hold on to something, anything, but the process was ruthless, stripping him bare.
The voice, cold and unfeeling, continued its work.
[Travel Imminent.]
[Warning: Memory Core Integrity Irrecoverable.]
The hum reached a deafening crescendo, the world around him warping and folding inwards. He felt himself being dragged through an unseen rift, his consciousness unraveling with every second.
[Initializing Last Stand Protocol.]
[Last Travel Confirmed.]
And then, all at once, it stopped. Silence fell.
He floated in a void, untethered from time, space, or self. The emptiness was suffocating, yet strangely peaceful. He no longer remembered who he was—or why he was fighting.
And yet, somewhere deep within, a faint ember still burned, fragile but defiant.
As his essence was cast into the unknown, a faint voice lingered in the void, neither his own nor the mechanical system's. It was soft, almost poetic, carrying a weight of finality and prophecy.
"One last stand… one last chance…
Traveler, your path is scattered like shattered glass.
Your steps falter, your purpose fades,
But even the faintest light pierces the deepest shade.
Run, fall, and rise once more—
For this is the end… and the start of your war."
With those words, the void gave way to blinding light, and the regressor was no more.
____ ______ _ _
Somewhere far beyond the current realm, in a place untouched by time, a figure sat on a throne carved from shadows. Their form was indistinct, shifting like smoke, yet their presence was suffocating.
They gazed into the void, their voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
"Oh, foolish traveler…" they said, their tone dripping with mockery and something deeper—amusement, perhaps. "How many times must you try before you understand? Fate is not yours to rewrite. It is mine to unravel."
The void around them shimmered, revealing glimpses of the countless cycles the regressor had endured.
Each one ended the same—failure, despair, death.
"No matter how far you run, no matter how many times you turn back… the end is always the same."
"The end is The End."
They leaned forward, their eyes—if they had eyes—burning with cruel certainty.
"And this time…" A low chuckle echoed, cold and hollow. "This time, you are not the hunter. You are the prey."
The void rippled again, showing two figures—one of them stumbling through an ordinary school day, the other oblivious, lost in idle fantasies. The shadowy figure tilted their head as if amused.
"The fool who sees the surface… and the fool who sees too much. How quaint."
They rose from their throne, the darkness around them swirling like a storm.
"Go on, traveler. Play your little game. But know this: The End will always win as it is the end."
Their voice faded into silence, but their laughter lingered, echoing across the void.
_______ ___ _
Dear Travelers,
Welcome to the first chapter of a story where the lines between fate and defiance blur. What lies ahead? Only those who dare to keep reading will uncover the truth.
If this chapter has sparked your curiosity, I humbly ask for your support. A simple vote or comment can turn whispers of this tale into a roar that echoes across the WSA 2025.
The End is not the end; it's where everything begins — are you ready to face it?
With anticipation, Peace_in_Chaos.