The first thing I noticed was the silence.
It wasn't the kind of silence that brought peace, nor the kind that allowed a moment of rest. No, this was a suffocating emptiness, a void that stretched endlessly, where even my own thoughts felt distant. I had lost track of how many times I had died. How many times I had woken up in the same place, body untouched by time, mind shattered by endless suffering.
I had stopped counting.
I stood in the middle of a ruined battlefield, the air thick with the scent of blood and decay. The corpses of those I once fought alongside lay scattered around me, their faces blurred, their names slipping from my grasp. I should have felt something—grief, pain, guilt. But all that remained was a hollow acceptance.
'What was her name again?'
A vague image flickered in my mind—a woman, warm and kind, her voice gentle like the wind. My mother. But no matter how hard I tried, her face wouldn't come back to me. Neither would my sister's. Their voices were distant echoes, fading further with each loop.
At first, I had fought against it. I had repeated their names in my head, desperately holding onto the memories. But time had a way of erasing things, and I was its prisoner.
I closed my eyes, letting the numbness wash over me.
The system screen flickered in my vision.
[System Message: You have died. Do you wish to update your abilities?]
It had become routine. A never-ending cycle of death, rebirth, and suffering. I used to hesitate, to question whether the system was playing with me. Now, I barely cared.
"Update."
A sharp pain shot through my mind, as if something was being forcefully rewritten inside me. The pain no longer surprised me. I welcomed it.
The numbers on my screen shifted.
Stats:
Strength: 1.5
Agility: 1.4
Endurance: 1.2
Intelligence: 1.3
Mana: 1.0
Ability: 0.5
It was slow, agonizingly slow, but I was changing. Each loop, my stats increased. I didn't know if it was a gift or a curse.
But something else had changed this time.
For the first time, under the 'Ability' section, something new appeared.
[Passive Ability Unlocked: Mind Fortress (0.1)]
I stared at it. My first ability. After countless deaths, countless resets, I had finally gained something.
I focused on it, and a small window appeared.
[Mind Fortress (Passive) - A fragmented resistance against the erosion of self. Prevents complete mental breakdown, but memories may still fade over time.]
A bitter chuckle escaped my lips. The system knew. It knew that I was breaking, that I was losing myself with each cycle. And instead of stopping it, it merely slowed it down.
'Cruel bastard.'
I glanced down at my hands. They weren't trembling anymore. The first few loops, I had been terrified—afraid of death, of pain, of forgetting. But now? I felt nothing.
I had not aged physically. My body remained the same as when I first turned eighteen. Yet, my mind… my mind felt like it belonged to an old man who had seen too much, lost too much. I no longer felt like the person I used to be.
The faces of those I once loved were vanishing. Their voices, their warmth, their laughter—all slipping through my fingers like sand.
And what scared me the most?
I was starting to be okay with it.
The Weight of Knowledge
With each loop, my stats increased, but so did something else—knowledge.
I could now read patterns in battle. I knew when an enemy would strike before they even moved. I could predict attack formations, understand weaknesses, and exploit them. The first few loops, I had fought recklessly, like a desperate fool. Now, I fought with precision, with strategy.
And I wasn't just learning how to fight.
Every time I looped back, I found myself understanding things I shouldn't have known. The way mana flowed, the way spells were structured, the hidden mechanics of the world around me. At first, I dismissed it as mere experience, but now… now I wasn't so sure.
'Is the system feeding me knowledge?'
Or was it something else?
I gritted my teeth. It didn't matter. None of it mattered. All I knew was that I had to keep going. I had to find a way out of this endless cycle.
But deep down, a part of me whispered a terrifying thought.
'What if I don't want to leave anymore?'
I shook my head. No. That wasn't me. That was the system trying to break me.
I needed to remember.
I needed to hold onto whatever pieces of my past I still had left.
But even as I thought that, I realized—there was almost nothing left to hold onto.
And with that, the loop began again.