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 familiar 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.
And then—
A laugh.
Soft at first, then louder, richer, filled with something that wasn't quite amusement yet wasn't pity either. It wasn't the system's voice, nor was it his own.
Someone was there, watching.
A shadow danced in the swirling abyss, the shape indistinct, shifting like smoke.
And then it spoke.
"If a king loses his crown, is he still a king?"
The regressor barely had the strength to react.
"If a story is erased, does it still exist?"
A cold shiver ran down his spine.
"If a fool knows the truth, does that make him wise?"
His mind, already crumbling, latched onto the words instinctively, as if searching for meaning.
"Tick-tock, traveler. The answer matters more than you think. But don't worry—you'll figure it out."
A pause.
A smirk, unseen yet felt.
"Eventually."
The laughter echoed once more, then faded as the world collapsed.
[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 figure sat far beyond the current realm, watching with an amused glint in their unseen eyes.
"Oh, foolish traveler…" they mused, their voice dripping with mockery and something deeper—amusement, perhaps. "How many times must you try before you understand? Fate is not yours to rewrite."
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 presence suffocating.
"One more thing."
"The cycle was never yours to break."
"It was mine to close."
And the void swallowed everything whole.
______ ___ _
( Author Note:
Welcome to the beginning of the end. Or perhaps, the end of the beginning.
If this story has piqued 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 webnovel community.
PS: The End is not the end; it's where everything begins. )