Do you wish to begin the loop?
The words blinked again, their relentless repetition echoing through my mind. I was becoming numb to them, but somehow, they were getting louder—demanding more of me each time. I could feel them pressing against my skull, as if they were trying to get inside my brain, take root, and crawl through my thoughts like an infection.
It was like the system was mocking me, playing with me. It felt like everything, every choice, was already made for me. And I hated it.
I closed my eyes and gripped my head, trying to silence the voice that wasn't mine but felt like it was becoming a part of me. No… I couldn't let it control me. I had to stay in control, right?
Yes. I pressed the button.
I opened my eyes.
The first thing I noticed was the silence. It was too quiet. Too suffocating. The air was thick, damp, almost oppressive. The kind of quiet that made your skin crawl and the hairs on your neck stand up. It was the kind of quiet that made you feel like something was watching, something waiting for you to make a wrong move.
I was back in the forest. The same twisted trees, the same fog that clung to everything, drowning the world in an eerie mist. I could feel it—the weight of the place, the unwelcoming chill that seeped into my bones, making me shiver involuntarily. But this time… it was different.
I wasn't scared. Not like before.
Before, the fear had been primal—an instinctual reaction to the unknown. It was the kind of fear that froze your body, made your heart race, made your mind scramble to find a way out. But now… now it was just a dull ache in my chest, a kind of resigned acceptance. Like I was waiting for something to happen, but at the same time, I didn't care if it did or not.
I'm numb, I realized. I'm beyond fear. Fear doesn't matter anymore.
I blinked, trying to shake off the unsettling thought, but it lingered. And as I stood there, in the thick fog, with no way to tell which direction I was facing, I realized just how long I had been trapped in this cycle. How many times had I been through this? How many times had I died, only to wake up and relive it all over again?
There was no escape. There was no way out.
I wasn't sure if I had been in this loop for days, weeks, or even longer. Time had lost its meaning here. It all blurred together—endless cycles of death and rebirth, each one a cruel repetition of the last.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to shout, to do something, anything to break the silence. But no sound came out.
Am I even real? I thought.
That was the thought that stuck with me this time. Am I real? Was I just a figment of my own mind? Was everything happening around me just part of some sick illusion? Or was it all real, and I was the one trapped in a nightmare I couldn't wake up from?
I couldn't tell anymore.
The thought gnawed at me, the doubt eating away at whatever semblance of certainty I had left. I wanted to believe that this was real, that I was real, but with each passing cycle, with each death and rebirth, that belief seemed more and more fragile, like a thread that was being pulled thinner and thinner.
A growl interrupted my thoughts.
I froze, my heart stopping for a moment. I knew that sound. It was the same growl I'd heard countless times before.
It was coming for me.
I glanced around, but the fog had thickened, and the trees were taller now, their twisted branches reaching out like skeletal hands. The ground beneath me felt unstable, shifting as if the forest itself were alive, breathing, watching. The growl grew louder, more insistent.
I had to run.
I knew that. But my legs wouldn't move. They felt heavy, as though they were made of stone. Every time I tried to take a step, it was as if I was wading through thick tar, struggling to break free from the invisible force holding me back.
Move, damn it!
But nothing happened.
The growl was closer now. I could hear it through the fog, the sound of claws scraping against the earth, the snarl of hunger. It was close—too close.
But I couldn't move. I couldn't run. I couldn't even scream.
It's over. The thought was chilling in its simplicity. It's always over.
I closed my eyes, bracing myself for whatever was coming.
But then… nothing.
For the first time, there was no pain. No claws sinking into my flesh. No gnashing teeth. No monster consuming me.
I opened my eyes again. The fog was still there, but the growl had stopped. The forest was silent once more.
I blinked in confusion. What the hell just happened? I thought.
Then I saw it. The screen. The system screen. It had appeared in front of me, flashing brightly, cutting through the fog like a blade. I stared at it, my heart sinking as I read the message.
Loop reset complete.
I felt my blood run cold. My head throbbed painfully. I was back at the beginning. Again.
The realization hit me like a tidal wave. It was all part of the loop. Every death, every pain, every fear—it was all part of the cycle. It didn't matter how much I suffered. It didn't matter how many times I died. I would always come back. Always.
And each time, it would be the same.
I tried to move, but my legs were still heavy, my body still unresponsive. I was trapped, stuck in the cycle, forever. And no matter how much I tried to fight, I couldn't escape. I couldn't break free.
Is this my punishment?
The thought echoed through my mind, settling deep into my heart. Is this the price I have to pay for being nothing? For having no abilities? For being so weak?
The answer came swiftly—no.
It wasn't punishment. It was something worse.
It was my reality.
And it would never end.
I stood there, in the middle of the forest, staring at the system screen.
I felt the weight of it all pressing down on me. The weight of the loops, the weight of the despair. But somewhere beneath the surface, I could feel something shifting. Something that hadn't been there before.
It wasn't hope. No, I had lost that long ago. It wasn't fear either. Fear had long since stopped holding any power over me.
It was something else. A kind of acceptance. But not the peaceful kind—the kind of acceptance that comes from knowing that you are utterly powerless.
And in that powerlessness, I felt a strange kind of freedom.
The monster would come again. The cycle would begin again.
And I would die.
Again.
But this time… maybe I wouldn't try to escape. Maybe this time, I would just let it happen.
I wonder what happens when I stop fighting.