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166. Warped Space

The town chattered around them. Ike and Wisp walked shoulder to shoulder toward the skill store. No one moved to block them. No one even looked their direction. Curious, Ike paused and approached one of the vendors. “I’ll take a sausage, thanks.”

The vendor woodenly handed Ike the meat and held his hand out for coin. Ike put a stone in his hand. Without comment, the vendor accepted it and turned back to his business.

“Creepy,” Wisp commented. She stole the sausage out of Ike’s hands and took a bite.

“No kidding.”

“At least we don’t need to worry about going hungry.”

“We don’t need to eat.”

“I can still get hungry.”

Ike snorted. He shook his head at Wisp. “Is food all you ever think about?”

“No. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Ike nodded.

She tilted her head, squinting at the sky. Her black hair fell around her face. “It only occupies seventy…no, eighty percent of my thoughts.”

“Hey, you could spend gods-know-how-long here, eating sausages every day,” Ike suggested.

Wisp wrinkled her nose. “No thanks. I need variety in my meals. I’m eating for fun, not sustenance.”

“So let’s get out of here.”

Ike pushed open the door to the skill shop. The hinges creaked. Musty air swirled past him, cold and moist. An empty room opened before him.

“Fuck,” Ike muttered.

“Well, that’s confirmation. He’s the core. Or part of it.” Wisp wrinkled her nose. She leaned in and took a deep breath. Slowly, she breathed out.

“Scent him?”

She nodded. “I’ll chase this scent. You…I don’t know. Keep poking around. Smash things. See if we can draw him out.”

“Great plan,” Ike commented.

“Yeah, well. Plans are your thing.” Wisp turned and raced through the streets, leaving Ike behind.

Ike sighed out. He walked deeper into the shop. Quietly, he approached the shelves and ran a finger over the surface. A thick layer of dust gathered on his fingertip. He rubbed his fingers together, his brows furrowing.

We were just here yesterday. How is there already this much dust?

The floors creaked underfoot. He searched further into the store. Past the counter and into the back room. The door to the back room swung open at a touch. An empty space stood before him, devoid of any storage, or even storage space. The wooden walls reached the wooden floors interrupted. Not even a shelf or empty barrel interrupted them.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Ike stepped inside. He kneeled, checking the ground for teleportation circle marks. There were faint impressions in the dust and the wood, but nothing he could make any sense of. Standing again, Ike pressed his lips together. Did the proprietor leave the city? Or had he simply left this location? Either way, the emptiness of the store confirmed that the proprietor was important to the city. Important to the loop.

He took to the streets. Reaching out, he nabbed one of the passersby. He furrowed his brows at Ike, confused. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry about this. It’s nothing personal.” Gripping the man’s hair, he punched with all his might.

Hard porcelain shattered. An empty, dark space gaped behind the man’s face. The remnants of the man’s face contorted. He screamed at Ike and—

Ike jolted awake. He sat in an empty room, on a small bed. The curtains fluttered. Morning sunshine filtered past the thick glass.

“I fucking knew it,” he grumbled, hopping out of bed. Something this creepy had to be puppets. It had Llewyn’s fingerprints all over it. Or Lord Brightbriar’s. He still wasn’t clear on the connection between the two. Maybe Llewyn is Lord Brightbriar’s salesman, or something? The hired help? The guy who pushes Lord Brightbriar’s plans to the masses? After all, Lord Brightbriar has a city to run. He can’t be out here playing puppet merchant. It makes sense that he'd have someone do that for him.

But the shopkeep was neither Lord Brightbriar nor Llewyn. He’d had medium-brown hair, pulled into a neat, short ponytail, and medium-brown eyes to match. Not Lord Brightbriar’s pitch-black hair, nor Llewyn’s shocking green. Plus, he was pretty sure Lord Brightbriar was at least Rank 5. He wouldn’t be able to easily suppress Rank 3s like Cara and Orin to the slums if he was only Rank 4. After all, I can fight low-level Rank 3s at Rank 2, but Rank 4s still completely suppress me. He wouldn’t be able to dismiss Rank 3s wholesale if he were only one Rank above them.

But that only told him who the shopkeep wasn’t. Not who he was.

He stepped out of his room and walked over to the room next door. “Wisp, hey!”

No response. Ike frowned. He knocked harder. “Wisp!”

Still nothing. Ike bit his lip. That’s strange. She’d at least say something by now. He grabbed the handle and threw the door open. “Sorry!”

An empty room awaited him. Not even a bed. No Wisp on sight.

Ike’s eyes widened. He ran inside. “Wisp? Wisp!”

The bed was neatly made. There were no dirty footprints on the floor. The window was closed and the air was still. No one had been in this room for a long time.

Ike took a slow breath to calm himself. His heart raced. Adrenaline pounded in his veins. But none of that helped him figure out where Wisp had gone.

I’m missing something. I’m missing something. I know I am.

But what am I missing?

He knelt, putting his head in his hands. The dust. Shawn, sleeping on his back. Waking up to find Wisp gone and the room empty.

This isn’t the third loop. That wasn’t the second. I’m missing time.

Shawn had only fallen asleep weeks into their travel last time. Wisp might have been snatched right after that last loop he remembered, but she’d been missing for longer. The shop was dusty, not because of any spell, but due to real-time passing between their visit and their second visit.

There was one thing that would tell him for sure. One thing that would proceed accurately, even if his recollection of time was bugged.

Ike pulled up his stat sheet.

[Name: Ike | Age: 17 | Status: Nm | Rank: 2 [Lost in the Loop]]

Skills: Common: 11 | Bronze 3 | Silver 3 | Gold 2 | Rare 1 | Unique: 6

Common: All-Around Runner Lvl 9 | Razor Handling Lvl 9 | Spear Handling Lvl 4 | Axe Handling Lvl 4 | Sword Handling Lvl 9 | Bow Handling Lvl 1 | Primitive Crafting Lvl 9

Bronze: Sensory Enhancement Lvl 9 | Mana Manipulation Lvl 6 | Lunam Manipulation Lvl 0 | Aether Manipulation Lvl 2

Silver: Flurry of Kicks Lvl 4 | Chlorophyll Lvl 2 | Exsanguination Lvl 1

Gold: Shockwave Punch Lvl 6 | Ice Armor Lvl 5

Rare: River-Splitting Sword Lvl 9

Unique: Lightning Dash Lvl 9 | Lightning Grasp Lvl 9 | Lightning Clad Lvl 4 | Lightning Caller Lvl 3 | Body Reforging Art Lvl 1 | Tempest Lvl 1

His eyes gravitated to the top. To the title, then, before that. To the first number on the sheet.

Age: 17

He took a deep breath. I was 16 when I entered. I’ve lost a whole year.

I can’t waste any more time. Turning, he raced out of Wisp’s room, his heart in his throat. A year. Anything could have happened.

“Wisp! I’m coming!” he shouted.