Arthur's resolve solidifies, his fists ablaze with the radiant energy of his Luminous Gauntlets. Determination blazes in his eyes as he faces off against Théodore, fully aware of the odds stacked against him. Without hesitation, he launches a series of rapid punches, each infused with the potent light magic he wields.

—Clang! Clang!

Théodore moves with an eerie calm, effortlessly blocking Arthur's blows with the golden spear. The metallic clashes reverberate through the decrepit building. Each deflection comes with almost dismissive ease as if Arthur’s efforts are nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

Then, in a swift, fluid motion, Théodore counters. The spear gleams ominously as it shoots forward, a lethal strike aimed to end the battle in a heartbeat.

But Arthur reacts with lightning speed. His hands shoot out, catching the spear between his gauntlets, halting it just inches from his chest. For a fleeting moment, it seems Arthur has gained the upper hand. He yanks the spear toward him, trying to unbalance Théodore and deliver a decisive punch.

But Théodore is quicker. With a casual sidestep, they evade the strike, moving with the precision of someone who has seen the move coming long before it is made.

The truth becomes painfully clear as the fight continues—Théodore isn’t even trying. Every punch and attack Arthur throws is either blocked or easily avoided. It’s as if Théodore is toying with him, testing his limits, savoring the growing frustration on Arthur’s face.

"You are weak," Théodore’s voice echoes from behind the mask, cold and taunting. "You should give up your dream of becoming a Stargate Raider. It doesn't suit someone as feeble as you."

Arthur’s jaw clenches at the insult, his fists trembling with exhaustion and fury. His pride, his very identity, is being torn apart by Théodore’s mocking words. Anger surges through him and, with it, a renewed determination.

But Théodore moves with the kind of ease only a master could, and before Arthur can even react, Théodore's leg lashes out in a swift, almost casual kick.

—BOOM!

The force behind it is anything but casual. Arthur is sent flying through the wall, crashing into the street outside. Debris rains down as the building crumbles under the force of the impact; the sheer power behind the blow leaves the air thick with dust and tension.

"Arthur!" Dominic’s terrified scream cuts through the stillness, his voice trembling with fear as he sees his friend buried under the rubble.

Théodore, unfazed by the destruction he’s caused, turns his cold, indifferent gaze toward Dominic.

With deliberate steps, he begins advancing toward him, the golden spear gleaming wickedly as it is raised again. The sight of it makes Dominic freeze, paralyzed by the sheer terror gripping his body.

Watching all of this unfold, I feel utterly helpless. My body feels weightless and intangible, and there is nothing I can do to intervene. The reality of Théodore’s strength sinks in—it isn’t just that Arthur is outmatched; it’s that Théodore is on an entirely different plane of power.

An [S] Rank. I know from the web novel that this level of strength is beyond what we can handle, but seeing it firsthand makes the weight of that knowledge sink in deeper. Arthur doesn’t stand a chance.

Arthur, battered and struggling to get free from the debris, looks up, his eyes wide with horror as he sees Théodore closing in on Dominic. His hands tremble as he summons every ounce of Mana he has left, his determination unshaken despite the pain wracking his body.

"Avalon’s Blast!" he roars, desperation fueling the attack.

Three brilliant beams of light erupt from Arthur’s hands, hurtling toward Théodore with all the power he can muster.

—BOOM!

The explosion lights up the night, the ground trembling from the sheer force of the impact. Dust and smoke fill the air, and hope flickers in us momentarily as the blast’s intensity seems enough to obliterate anything in its path.

But as the smoke clears, that hope is quickly extinguished.

Théodore stands there, completely unscathed, their golden mask gleaming in the dim light, untouched by the force of Arthur's strongest attack. The sheer impossibility of it leaves us all speechless, our hearts sinking into the pit of despair.

Arthur’s eyes widen in disbelief. Avalon’s Blast is one of his most powerful spells, yet it hasn’t scratched Théodore.

"So, this is the best the heir of Les Arcanes Éternels can do?" Théodore’s voice drips with mockery. "How disappointing."

Arthur grits his teeth, his breath labored, his body clearly straining under the weight of his injuries and rapidly depleting Mana. He is running on fumes, and Théodore hasn’t even broken a sweat. It’s a hopeless fight, and Arthur knows it. But still, he won’t give up.

Dominic’s eyes fill with tears as he watches Arthur struggle. His friend, his protector, is giving his everything, yet it isn’t enough. Desperation and guilt well up inside him—he is why this fight is happening and Arthur is suffering.

“Let me show you the difference between us, Lyon,” Théodore says with a chilling tone, their voice echoing through the still air.

With a casual flick of their wrists, they produce a single black crow feather from their cloak. It floats ominously, suspended in the air as if time is holding its breath. The feather begins to glow with an eerie crimson light, twisting and expanding unnaturally.

Suddenly, it tears open a portal above. From the swirling darkness emerges a massive crow, armored in glossy black feathers that shimmer like polished steel. Its eyes, glowing a deep malevolent red, lock onto us with cold calculation.

“Caw!”

The bird lets out a bone-rattling scream, unleashing a hurricane-like wind that tears through the village. Roofs are ripped from houses, trees are uprooted, and the ground beneath us seems to tremble. The raw power of it is overwhelming.

Arthur and Dominic are thrown back by the blast, tumbling across the ground as they try to regain their footing.

I stand untouched by the physical forces of this world, watching, powerless. The chaos around me is like a storm I can neither influence nor escape.

Arthur forces himself to stand despite the pain etched across his face. His body is battered, but his spirit is unyielding. He glances at Dominic, who returns the look, wide-eyed but determined.

There is something in their gaze, a silent agreement, an unspoken plan. Dominic nods quickly, understanding the cue, and without hesitation, he turns and runs, his feet pounding against the cracked earth as he flees.

Théodore remains completely oblivious to Dominic’s escape, his focus trained solely on Arthur. It’s clear now—they are toying with him, savoring the struggle.

Arthur’s body trembles, not from fear but from sheer exhaustion. Yet even in this moment of near-defeat, he finds a way to stand tall. He summons a sword of pure light, though its flickering form reveals his dwindling Mana. He points it directly at Théodore, his resolve unshaken.

“I have to say, you’re quite tenacious, Lyon,” Théodore remarks, their voice laced with mocking admiration. “But you must know by now… it won’t change anything.”

Arthur says nothing, his eyes locked on his foe. Summoning all his remaining strength, he whispers, “Flash of Merlin…”

—Bling!

Arthur’s body becomes a streak of light, moving with incredible speed. His form blurs as he dashes past Théodore, aiming for a final, desperate strike.

But it is in vain.

Théodore casually sidesteps, their movements as effortless as if they had seen the attack coming long before it happened.

Arthur stumbles, his momentum slowing. “Ngh!” He turns to face Théodore, his expression one of disbelief.

“Was that all?” Théodore asks, their voice flat, tinged with disappointment.

Before Arthur can respond, a strange light begins to glow from his torso. It takes me a moment to realize what has happened.

—Squelch!

The light is the deadly aftermath of a blade—a clean, precise cut through his body. I barely have time to register what transpired before Arthur's form collapses, cleaving in two.

“Arthur...”

The word escapes my lips in a whisper, a gut-wrenching mix of sorrow and disbelief. I have watched him fight with everything he has, only for his life to be snuffed out so cruelly, so abruptly.

A profound sadness fills me, knowing that this is the fate of the original Arthur, a boy who had dreamed of becoming a Stargate Raider, cut down before his story could ever truly begin. He wasn’t a hero in the Web Novel; he was an untold tragedy, a forgotten fighter.

Théodore stands over Arthur's remains, not even sparing him a second glance. “Now that the Lyon is taken care of, it’s time to finish the order Malignor gave me.”

With a single, fluid movement, Théodore dashes forward, leaving a gust of wind in their wake as they close in on Dominic, ready to fulfill the dark command that has been given to them.

I can only watch, my heart sinking deeper, knowing that whatever comes next will be even more devastating.

-Bzzt!

My vision glitches, distorting and flickering as if my mind is unraveling.

"Ugh!" I groan, clutching my head as a sharp pain shoots through my skull.

-Bzzt!

The world spins out of control, a whirlpool of nausea and disorientation sucking me in. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to drown out the chaos and find a moment of stability in this storm.

-Bzzt!

Another jarring pulse runs through me, and just as suddenly as it started, the pain vanishes. The spinning stops. I blink, trying to piece together where I am.

The cool, fresh air around me feels out of place, serene almost, a far cry from the chaos I just witnessed. A soft breeze rustles the leaves, and birds chirp somewhere in the distance. The contrast is so sharp it jars me. How can everything feel so calm when the world was falling apart moments ago?

I turn instinctively, my heart still pounding with the aftershocks of everything I’ve seen. And there, against a tree, is Dominic—out of breath, hunched over, barely holding himself together. He looks terrified, clinging to the last vestiges of hope as if he’s been running for his life.

The thought of Arthur’s brutal, merciless end replays in my mind, and now, seeing Dominic barely hanging on fills me with a dread that claws at my chest. Is this it for him? Is Dominic going to die, too, just like Arthur?

-Fwoosh!

I barely have time to react before Théodore appears behind Dominic, the air around them still.

"Why hello there," Théodore’s voice is chilling, the words devoid of any human warmth.

Dominic, clearly sensing his death, stumbles backward, tripping over a tree root in his panic. He hits the ground hard, his body trembling as he looks up, helpless.

"Hahahaha!" Théodore’s laughter is the kind that sends chills down your spine, hollow and filled with cruelty.

Dominic, lying there in the dirt, sobs in terror. His hands tremble as he raises them in a desperate plea for mercy.

"N-No! P-Please no! I want to live!"

His voice cracks, raw with fear, his body shaking as he sees the spear aimed at him.

Théodore barely reacts, their face obscured by the mask, but their intention is crystal clear.

"Orders are orders."

My stomach twists. Orders? They’re going to kill Dominic—just like that. No hesitation, no mercy.

Dominic's eyes fill with tears, and I can feel the weight of his despair. All those years of feeling useless, of being powerless, and now, at the end of it all, he’s about to die without ever getting the chance to prove he mattered. His entire life seems to have led to this moment, and it’s slipping away.

-Squelch!

The spear plunges deep into Dominic's stomach.

"Ugh!" Dominic gasps, his hands clutching at the spear, his fingers weakly trying to push it out.

Théodore’s hand twists the weapon cruelly, and Dominic’s body jerks in pain.

No… not again. Not Dominic, too. I want to scream, to tear Théodore apart, to do anything. But I can’t. I’m helpless, just like I was with Arthur.

But then a nagging thought hits me, piercing through the anguish: If Dominic is stabbed here, how is he alive in Japan? Something isn’t right. The whole situation is riddled with contradictions that don’t add up.

“I’ve finally completed my task. Time to—"

-Swick!

In an instant, Théodore is cleaved in half, their body disintegrating into ash before it even hits the ground.

I gasp, barely comprehending what just happened as I see Célestin standing where Théodore had been, his sword, Tiān Jué Lóng Rèn, glowing faintly in his grip. His face is twisted in fury, the anger in his eyes almost frightening as he stares at the ashes of his fallen enemy. But when his gaze shifts to Dominic’s limp form, the anger melts into something deeper—grief, raw and consuming.

Célestin walks over to Dominic’s body and kneels, carefully lifting him into his arms. His shoulders tremble, his breath ragged as he holds Dominic close, as though cradling something precious that has been irreparably shattered.

“I’m so sorry… I was too late,” Célestin whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “We didn’t plan this properly…”

Wait… what did he just say?

My mind scrambles to make sense of his words. Célestin knows Dominic? Are they connected? No wonder he knew who I was when he rescued Arthur, me, and Lumi in the town earlier. But this… this wasn’t part of the Web Novel. None of this had ever happened before. What is going on?

I’m overwhelmed. The weight of it all—the deaths, the chaos, the confusion—it feels like too much. I can’t breathe. My mind is spiraling, spinning out of control, unable to grasp any anchor to reality.

“Don’t worry,” Célestin’s voice, low and filled with resolve, pulls me from my thoughts. “I’ll start over again. After all, it’s only the fifth time we’ve regressed.”

...What?

I freeze.

Fifth time?

The words echo in my mind, a cold shiver creeping down my spine. What does he mean by “regressed”? Is this some sort of twisted cycle? Has this all happened before? Are we doomed to repeat this over and over? The pieces don’t fit, but the more I think about it, the more suffocating it feels.

Who is Dominic? Who am I?

-Bzzt!

"Ugh!" I wince as another sharp pain cuts through my head, my vision glitching and distorting like a broken screen.

The headache throbs behind my eyes, making it hard to focus. When it finally subsides, I blink and find myself standing somewhere unfamiliar.

A graveyard.

"Why am I here?" I mutter, my voice barely audible over the unsettling stillness of the place.

The sky is overcast and feels heavy and oppressive, almost like it's weighing down on the world itself.

-Step

The sound of footsteps on the grass catches my attention. I turn, my heart skipping when I see him—Célestin. He looks older, dressed in a black suit that people wear to funerals. There's something different about him—something heavier. His normally confident air is gone, replaced by a quiet, almost haunting weight in his expression.

I follow his gaze and see Dominic a little farther ahead. He, too, is older, dressed in dark funeral attire. His face is hollowed out by grief, his once vibrant eyes dull and lifeless. He kneels in front of five gravestones, placing flowers carefully, almost reverently, on each one.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

I walk closer, my steps hesitant, almost afraid of what I might see. The names on the gravestones come into view, and my blood runs cold.

Arthur, Lumi, Violette, André, Celine.

My breath hitches, and I freeze, an overwhelming sense of dread crashing into me like a tidal wave. It's suffocating, the weight of the reality in front of me too much to bear. Arthur? Lumi? Violette? André? Celine? Are they all dead?

How did this happen? How has it come to this?

The world around me blurs like I'm falling into a deep, dark pit. These were the people Dominic cared about, the ones who fought alongside him, the ones he wanted to protect. Now... now they are just names carved into cold, lifeless stone. It's too much.

"Dominic, even if they're—" Célestin's voice cuts through the thick fog of grief.

Dominic stands up slowly, his movements deliberate and heavy. He turns to face Célestin, and the look in his eyes is something I have never seen before. It's like all the fight; all the spirit has been drained out of him, leaving nothing but a hollow shell of the person he once was.

"I'm not continuing our... plan," Dominic says, his voice flat, devoid of emotion.

"...What? Why?" Célestin's voice wavers, shock flickering across his face.

Dominic looks at him, his face gaunt, his eyes sunken. "What's the point when they died during this?" His words are so quiet, yet they hit with the force of a hammer, heavy and unyielding.

"B-But, we can avenge them if we continue with our—"

"Célestin... please." Dominic's voice cracks, the weight of his sorrow spilling out in those two words. "I don't want this... even if we succeed, I have no one to go home to."

I feel a lump forming as I watch the scene unfold. It's hard to breathe, and the emotions swirling inside me are too chaotic to understand. I can feel Dominic's grief and utter devastation. He has lost everything, everyone he cared about, and now... he doesn't want to fight anymore. He's broken, completely and utterly broken.

And Célestin... Célestin is shaking. His fists are clenched so tightly that his knuckles have turned white. He's trembling, not with anger, but with something deeper—raw and unspoken. He doesn't want to lose Dominic, too, not like this.

But Dominic's eyes never leave him, empty and resigned, as if he has already accepted that it's over. He's done. He has nothing left to fight for.

"Fine," Célestin's voice cracks, barely above a whisper. "We can do this again... without them dying."

-Bzzt!

"Ugh!" The familiar sharp pain shoots through my head once again, making me wince. I stand in the same graveyard as the headache dulls and my vision clears.

The same cold, heavy air. The same five gravestones.

And there they are again—Célestin and Dominic—standing before the graves, just as before. The weight of the moment crashes into me like a wave, sending a chill down my spine.

They failed. Again.

A sinking feeling grips my chest. How many times have they stood here, in this exact spot? How many times have they tried and failed? The realization feels like a punch to the gut. The outcome is always the same, no matter what they do or how hard they try.

Arthur, Lumi, Violette, André, Celine… their names etched into the cold stone, a permanent reminder of the losses they can't prevent.

How can they keep going after this? How can they stand there, again and again, staring at the graves of the people they loved, knowing they'd failed to save them? It's unbearable just watching them, and I can feel the ache of it settling deep in my bones.

Célestin stands silent, staring at the graves. His eyes are filled with something dark and heavy, the weight of countless failures pressing down on him. He glances at Dominic as if he wants to speak, but the words catch in his throat.

I can feel the hesitation, the doubt gnawing at him. How many times can they go through this before it breaks them both?

"Célestin..." Dominic's voice breaks the silence, shaky but determined. "Let’s do it again... I’m not giving up until they are alive..."

His words hang in the air, raw with emotion. I can see the pain etched in every line of his face, but a fierce resolve burns in his eyes. Despite everything, despite the crushing weight of their repeated failures, Dominic refuses to give up. He clings to the hope that there's still a way to save them and that there's still a chance to bring them back.

Célestin looks down, his fists clenched at his sides. He wants to believe in that hope, but I can see the hesitation and exhaustion. He's torn between the desire to keep fighting and the despair of knowing that every attempt has failed.

His voice, when it comes, is barely more than a whisper. "...Okay."

It's a quiet acceptance, not of the plan, but of the endless cycle of pain and loss they are trapped in. And yet, they will keep going and trying because the alternative—giving up—is simply too unbearable to contemplate.

-Bzzt!

My vision glitches violently, the world spinning and distorting around me. The familiar sharp pain stabs at my skull, and when it clears, I am back in the graveyard once more.

The same five gravestones stand cold and unforgiving before me, their presence a harsh reminder of the endless cycle of failure.

And there they are again—Dominic and Célestin, standing before the tombstones like they have so many times before.

They have failed. Again.

That realization hits me like a punch to the chest, harder than ever. It feels like time is in a cruel loop, forcing them to relive the same heartbreak repeatedly. No matter how many times they try, no matter what they do differently, it always ends the same—Arthur, Lumi, Violette, André, Celine... all dead. Their names are forever carved into cold stone.

But this time... this time, something is different.

I look at Dominic, expecting the same determination and fire in his eyes. But what I see instead makes my blood run cold. Once filled with grief and resolve, his face is now devoid of emotion. His eyes are dull and lifeless as if something inside him has finally shattered. He stands there, staring blankly at the graves, like a man who no longer cares, like someone who has given up.

Next to him is Célestin, and though his face is still set with determination, his body shakes with barely contained frustration. His fists are clenched tightly, the veins in his arms bulging as if he is holding back an overwhelming wave of emotion.

The silence stretches between them, thick and suffocating.

Finally, Dominic breaks it, his voice hollow and empty. "Célestin… let’s—"

But before he can finish, Célestin snaps.

"Enough, Dominic!" His voice is a sharp bark that echoes through the graveyard. "This is not working! We’ve experienced the same scenario... countless times, and we still have not made any progress in defeating Malignor or the entire Umbrascourge!"

There is raw pain in his voice, pain born from endless failure, and watching the people they love die over and over again. Célestin’s face twists with anger and despair, his usually calm demeanor cracking under the pressure.

"We can’t keep doing this," he continues, his voice breaking. "Every time, we fail. Every time, they die. And nothing we do changes that!"

Dominic doesn’t react. He stands there, his face still blank, staring at the graves as if Célestin's words mean nothing to him.

Watching them breaks something inside me. They have tried so hard and fought fiercely, yet... they are stuck. Trapped in a cycle, they can’t escape, a nightmare with no end. And now, Dominic—who had once fought so hard to keep going—is slipping away, losing the will to keep fighting and trying.

Dominic turns to Célestin, his expression devoid of any remaining hope. "Since this is it..." His voice is flat and lifeless, a far cry from the determined tone I have come to know.

Before Célestin—or I—can react, Dominic reaches into his pocket and pulls out a red gun. My heart freezes in place as he raises it to his head. Time seems to slow down, each second dragging on like an eternity.

"Domini—"

-Bang!

The sound of the gunshot shatters the silence, loud and brutal. I gasp, the world spinning as my mind struggles to process what happened. Blood sprays everywhere, painting the ground and the tombstones in a sickening red.

My breath catches in my throat.

"No..."

The word barely escapes me, my entire body trembling as I stare at the horrific scene before me. The cold finality hits me like a tidal wave—Dominic is gone just like that. His lifeless body slumps to the ground, eyes still open, staring vacantly at nothing.

"No... no... no..." I whisper, my voice breaking as terror and disbelief claw at my chest.

My legs feel like they will give out, and my hands shake uncontrollably.

Célestin collapses to his knees beside Dominic’s body, his face a mask of shock and devastation. His hands tremble as he reaches out to touch Dominic, but he stops just short as if he can’t bring himself to acknowledge that this is real.

"Dominic..." His voice cracks, barely a whisper. "Why... why did you...?"

His breathing becomes shallow, and his whole body shakes as the reality of what happened sinks in. He stares at the blood pooling on the ground, his face pale, his eyes wide with horror and disbelief.

Finally, Célestin's grief breaks through, and he lets out a choked sob, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

"Fine..." he mutters, his voice laced with anguish. "If that's how it is..."

Tears begin streaming down his face as he crumbles completely, his whole body trembling with the weight of his despair. He collapses beside Dominic's lifeless body, unable to hold himself together any longer.

-Bzzt!

"Ngh!" My vision glitches again, and the now familiar sharp pain pulses through my head.

As the disorientation ebbs, I open my eyes and find myself standing inside a cozy, familiar place—Dominic’s house.

The atmosphere is warm, filled with laughter and conversation. Arthur, Lumi, André, Celine, Violette, Dominic, and Célestin are all gathered together, celebrating something that, for a moment, seems completely out of place, given everything I have seen.

"What… is this?" I whisper to myself, looking around in disbelief.

Party decorations hang from the ceiling, streamers of gold and blue crisscrossing the room, and a large banner reads, "Congratulations for Graduating from Verdant Arcanum!"

I stare at the banner, trying to make sense of this moment.

“They graduated?”

That’s nice, I guess, but... something doesn’t feel right.

“Hey, Dominic, let’s go outside,” Célestin’s voice pulls me from my spiraling thoughts.

Dominic, sitting quietly amidst the celebration, nods and stands. Despite the smile on his face, his eyes are hollow and lifeless, like someone who has seen far too much ever truly to smile again.

I follow them as they go outside, my steps ghostly and silent as I trail behind, invisible to all.

The night air is cool, and the stars above twinkle in a peaceful sky, untouched by the chaos and destruction I had witnessed before.

“I can’t believe it… we did it… we saved them,” Célestin mutters softly, his expression lighter for a fleeting moment. He is smiling, but there’s something fragile about it, like it could shatter at any second.

Dominic, still smiling, nods. “Yeah, but we still have to defeat them.”

His words hang heavily in the air, stark and devoid of hope. His smile never reaches his eyes, those once bright orbs clouded with exhaustion and pain.

Célestin’s expression darkens, the weight of their reality settling back in. “Yeah… even though we saved them, we didn’t make any progress in defeating Malignor and Umbrascourge.”

Dominic nods again, his voice quiet, drained. "There’s always more to fight..."

Watching them, I feel an overwhelming sadness. They have saved their loved ones and had moments of joy, but the fight is far from over. This celebration, this moment of fleeting happiness, is shadowed by the knowledge of the battles yet to come.

And even here, Dominic’s eyes are lifeless in this small victory. His spirit, already worn down by the countless cycles, can’t find peace in this temporary success.

-Bzzt!

My vision glitches again, but this time, the discomfort is gone. Maybe I’ve developed a resistance, or maybe I’m just getting used to the disorienting flashes. Either way, as the glitching subsides, I find myself back in Aurelior, but it’s no longer the shining city I remember.

Destruction lies everywhere.

The streets are littered with the broken remnants of what was once vibrant life—bodies strewn across the ground, homes reduced to rubble, and the air thick with the scent of death and despair. The world around me is crumbling, a graveyard where hope once stood.

"Lumi..."

That voice—Dominic’s voice—pulls my attention. I turn, and what I see makes my heart stop.

The older Dominic kneels on the cracked ground, cradling the broken form of Lumi in his arms. She’s barely alive, her once-bright eyes now dull, flickering with the last traces of life.

“Domi...nic...” Her voice is so soft, barely a whisper as if she can barely muster the strength to speak.

“Save your breath,” Dominic’s voice is thick with grief, his expression one of absolute devastation. The man who has lived through countless cycles, who has fought endlessly to save his friends, is now witnessing the loss of one of them in the most brutal way imaginable.

"Fufufufu, what a sad ending..."

Just as the moment's weight threatens to suffocate everything, an unfamiliar voice breaks through the scene, dripping with cruel amusement.

The sound is melodic, yet it holds an eerie undertone that twists the sorrow into something darker and more insidious. I turn towards the voice and see her.

She’s breathtaking in her danger—a woman with long black hair, like midnight silk, flowing effortlessly against her pale skin. Her gown, adorned with delicate gold accents, shimmers in the dim light, accentuating her every move. She wears a golden skull mask that covers half of her face, leaving the other half exposed, her sharp features a perfect mix of beauty and menace.

Her presence is magnetic, but it also radiates pure malice.

Another member of Umbrascourge. No—based on her regal and commanding appearance, she has to be one of the Generals.

Dominic, however, doesn’t even glance at her. His focus is entirely on Lumi, holding her as if the force of his will alone could keep her alive. His trembling hands gently brush the hair from her face, his expression one of helplessness and raw agony.

“I wish…I…was more…useful to you…”

Lumi’s words, strained and barely audible, are like knives cutting into the air. Her hand, which had been resting gently on Dominic’s face, drops lifelessly to the ground. And with it, the last flicker of life in her dulled eyes extinguishes.

Lumi is dead.

My heart clenches painfully in my chest. Lumi—the girl I had met who seemed so cold and distant, yet deep down, she was undeniably a good person. She had fought, and even in her dying breath, she thought of how she wished she had done more. She never reunited with her father, the family she longed for.

And now she’s gone. A life snuffed out, with so much left unsaid, so much undone.

A lump forms in my throat as I watch.

This world is cruel—so, so cruel.

Dominic gently lays Lumi down, his fingers lingering on her for a moment, as if letting go would mean acknowledging that she’s gone. His face, once consumed by grief, now twists into something darker. Something burning.

He stands, his shoulders tense with barely controlled rage, and turns slowly to face the woman responsible.

“You’ll pay for what you did, you Bitch!”

His voice is raw, every word drenched in venom, a promise of vengeance.

--Bzzt!

My vision glitches again, but, just like before, no headaches follow. The now-familiar sensation of transitioning between scenes leaves me feeling hollow like I’m trapped in a twisted loop of despair and chaos.

As the glitch fades, I find myself once more in the broken remnants of Aurelior, a place that has become a constant symbol of destruction in these fragmented realities.

But this time, it’s worse—far worse.

The streets are piled high with bodies, so densely packed that there isn’t an inch of space left between them. Blood coats the once vibrant town, now drowned in silence and death. My stomach twists at the sight, a horrifying tableau of massacre stretched out endlessly before me.

What the hell is going on?

A familiar voice interrupts my thoughts, cutting through the grim stillness with an uncharacteristic edge of rage.

"Dominic! Where are you!?"

I freeze. It’s Arthur’s voice, but it’s filled with fury—a rage I never associated with him.

Without thinking, I run toward the voice, my heart pounding, dread mounting with each step. And then I see him.

Arthur stands atop a pile of corpses, his face contorted in anger and betrayal.

“Arthur... what did you do?” I mutter in disbelief.

This can’t be real. Arthur, the kind, compassionate boy who has always protected others, couldn’t have done this. The pile of bodies beneath him tells a story of unimaginable bloodshed. This is wrong. This isn’t Arthur.

“Arthur…”

Just as I’m about to move closer, I hear another voice.

It’s Dominic, his expression hollow, devoid of any warmth or humanity.

Arthur spins around to face him, his face red with anger and tear-streaked from emotion.

“You stole all the assets of my family, the guild, even the life of my father…”

There’s dust in the air—light dust—swirling around Arthur like a storm.

“I don’t get you! You’re a genius compared to me! Why would you steal everything from me?! Do you only do that to show how much better you are than me?!”

Tears stream down Arthur’s face, his pain palpable in every word. His light sword appears in his hands, glowing brightly as he points it directly at Dominic, trembling with raw emotion.

“I knew I was not as talented as you, even when you were a Manaless. Now that you’ve become a Manaficial… you’ve changed… why?”

The revelation hits me like a blow. Arthur is jealous of Dominic—jealous of his perceived superiority, even though Dominic is Manaless.

So, all along, Arthur’s challenge to me—the duel at Temple du Sceptre Lié—was rooted in this feeling of inferiority. He’s been carrying this resentment, this pain, all along.

Unmoved, Dominic grabs a nearby spear and aims it at Arthur.

“I’m sorry… this is the only way for me to stop him… I’m tired.”

His voice is hollow, devoid of the warmth that once existed between them.

Without hesitation, Dominic moves—too fast for Arthur to react. In an instant, the spear is embedded in Arthur’s abdomen.

-Squelch!

“Gah!”

Arthur's body jerks violently from the impact, and blood sprays in a horrifying arc, painting the surroundings crimson. His eyes widen in shock as he looks at Dominic, pain and disbelief etched on his features.

“Doms…”

Arthur’s voice is barely a whisper, his body crumpling as he leans against Dominic’s shoulder for support, but Dominic’s expression remains cold, indifferent. He doesn’t flinch or hesitate as he lets Arthur collapse to the ground.

I stand frozen, my breath caught in my throat. Dominic, the boy I thought I knew—the boy who was supposed to be weak, struggling—has just killed his best friend, and he doesn’t even seem to care.

The utter lack of remorse sends a shiver down my spine.

Dominic’s eyes are dark and deadened, as if all the light has drained him. He has changed completely, and it terrifies me.

And then Célestin appears, his face as lifeless as Dominic’s.

“Dominic…”

Another voice breaks through the silence, and I turn to see Célestin standing nearby, his expression void of the usual life and energy. He looks as if he has given up as if the weight of everything they’ve been through has crushed whatever hope remained.

Dominic stops beside him, his cold gaze softening slightly. “I was so focused on the plan that I forgot about the feelings of those near me... I want to restart…”

Célestin’s dull eyes flicker, his fists clenched at his sides, his whole body trembling with restrained emotion.

“We can’t stop now, Dominic. We’ve killed five of the six Umbrascourge Generals. We’re so close—closer than we’ve ever been. We can’t stop now.”

“I know,” Dominic whispers, his voice as cold as ever. “But… this isn’t what I want. I want to start over again…”

The resignation in Célestin’s expression is painful to watch. He looks down, defeated, but nods anyway.

Their voices are blank, their faces devoid of hope or emotion. Yet, even after all they’ve endured, even after everything they’ve lost, they still cling to this twisted tenacity—to keep going, to keep trying.

But this isn’t resilience. This is despair.

They are two broken souls, trapped in a cycle they can never escape, trying desperately to fix a world that keeps breaking them in return.

And Dominic’s coldness—his willingness to kill Arthur without a second thought—horrifies me. How could he do this? What has happened to him?

-Bzt!

My vision glitches once again, a sickening distortion that churns my stomach.

So, this is why Dominic forced me to promise to protect his loved ones?

The overwhelming weight of Dominic's forced promise overwhelms me like a suffocating fog. I understand now—the desperate reason behind why he demanded that promise of me, why he insisted that I protect those he cares about.

The knowledge crashes over me, a tide of guilt and anger. It makes sense… but it doesn’t make it right. This burden I am now carrying—it isn’t mine. It’s Dominic’s, a product of his endless cycles, repeated failures, and twisted need to keep resetting everything until he gets it right. He has shackled me to this world, to his curse, without giving me a choice.

And the weight of that burden—it’s too much.

I can feel the pressure, a constant gnawing in my chest as if a vice has clamped down on my lungs. I can barely breathe. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want any of this. Dominic has forced his life upon me and thrown me into a role I was never meant to play.

Honestly… at this point, I don’t want to see any more of these visions. I don’t want to experience more of his regrets, pain, and mistakes. I just want to go back—to Earth. To a place where everything is peaceful, where I can just be myself.

"Dominic… I’m starting to hate you…"

The words echo in my mind, bitter and sharp. I am angry. Furious. He has dragged me into this nightmare without any regard for my life, for my desires. I am just an ordinary man—a man named Clark Williams. I never asked to be part of this never-ending loop of death and regret.

But as the anger surges, so does something else. A strange, conflicted feeling.

"...But at the same time… I don’t hate you."

The realization stings. As much as I want to despise him, a part of me understands. A part that sympathizes with the hopelessness of it all. Dominic, with all his flaws, has been trapped in this endless cycle for far longer than I can fathom. He is so desperate to save the people he loves, to fix the mistakes he made, that he crossed lines.

And I have been caught in the crossfire.

"Out of all people… why me?"

My voice trembles with exhaustion. I am not some hero or some chosen one. I am just a man trying to live his life in peace. And now, I am lost in a web I don’t even understand. Trapped in a body that isn’t mine, fighting battles that aren’t mine to fight.

"...I was just Clark Williams…"

C̵̨̞̒͂͛͑̇ơ̸͕͉̞͛̉́͋͑̇͝n̷̢̦̈́̈́͗̈́̇͝n̸̛̛̰͓̈̔̔͝͝e̶̙̼̙̫̾͗͂̇͠͠c̸̛̛̠̠̏̑͛̈́ť̶̡̻̖̤̿̈̿̕͘͝i̶̛̹͋͋̾̏͑͌n̴̥̝͎̿̎͗͑͆͝ġ̴̢̨̭̝͖͚̫̀͋̎̚͘͠ ̷͕̦̬̳͕͊͐̅̋͑͋ț̸̨̡͎͔̿́̅͛̓̇̑o̶͕̬̼̬̿̾̂̈́͐͛͝ ̷̢͎͇̻̪̪͎̃̇̇̾̑͗͘h̶̘͍̿́̂̐̌͘͝ơ̸̢̡͇̳̠̠̈́̈́͛̇s̴̛̳̤̱̠̯͒̎͆̈̕ț̴̩̙͇͚̯́̿̈́͘͝͠…̷͖͚̞̘͙̙̂̊̈́̑͐̑͘

Suddenly, the familiar red hologram screen appears before me—the System. The text flickers, still glitching, but the message is clear.

T̶̖̯̼͐̉͠e̵̘͖̟̙̝̲͕͆̔̈́̽̿̑͒̇͛̐̇͠͠ͅl̸̢̡͔̍̏͗̾͑͝͠e̶͕̟̓̆̆͛̔͝ͅp̸̡͔̈́̍̀́͑͘͝o̶̤̝̓̄̂̅r̶̛̖̳͓̹̒̑̆̇̎̿͑̇͛͝t̸̲͔̦̦̿͑̍̇͊̋̇͐͛͘̚͝i̶̱̘̲͇͔̅͊̀̆̌̀̀̆͝n̸̢̗̳̲̓͋͗̏͌̊̓͆͊́͝͠͠g̷̻̳͇͎͎̟͈̅̾͗̋̇̈̆̎̆̅̾͘̚͜͝ ̸̛͖͓̀͊̌͑̿̆̎̿̔̐̌̅̓͝h̷̢̛͕̗̳̱̋̒̑͋͑́͑͊̕̕͜͠͝ơ̸͉̟̟͙͙̠͖̘̼͔̻̌͛̒̔̈͘̕͘͠s̵̢̨̛͔̲̟͉̬͉͓̳̮̖̎̌͒̀̄͂͂̕̕͝͝ͅt̶͕̲̻͖͉̲͚̤̘͈̻̙̪̝̖͑͌͂͆̒̊̍͠͝ ̶̛͇̼̦̓̓̽̇͛̆̾̏̆̆͘͝b̴̡͔̞̲͕̬̖̝͗͂̿̌̽͗͊̈́̄̇̎͘͝a̴̡̢̡͚̮̮̖͍͑̌͂̓̍̐͋͌͑̕͠c̸̪͎̗̼̉͛̑̽̊͂̓̓̓͒̂͘͠k̴̡̧̧͍͕͇͇͕̬͖̱̇͛̔̋̆̑̉̈̑͌̄̓͘͠ͅ…

The world around me began to warp and glitch more violently than before, the very fabric of reality distorting and twisting. But amidst the chaos, I could see them—small, flickering red diamonds scattered in the air, shining through the distortion like faint beacons.

M̶̡͖͍͉̣͕̲̄̒̊́̈́̿̒͠á̶̪̥̞͕̠͍̟͇͂̓͊̎͆̈́̕͝ṣ̵͒͊̅͆̓́̏́͌̕t̷̢͉͔̘̲̮̦̙̓̌̅̈́̒͗̔͠e̸̫͙̍͑͋͒̈̓̈́̚ͅr̸̛̛̪̗̣̱̯̥̹̞̅̾͌̿̕.̶̡͉̱̼̳̣͎̌̀̀̑̒̉͘͝.̴̛̻̭̻̻̍̏̏̽t̷͕̟͉̘̘̤̆͒͛͐̒̋̽̀̆ò̷̞̅̄͛̓͝u̷̢̳̲̩̙̍̾͗̇͂̌̕͠c̸̢̛͔͈̥̠̒̍̎͋̽̔͘͜h̶̠̗̠̦̘̝̪͉̃̌̒͋̔..ṯ̸̤͕̘̌̿̆͘͝͝͝ȟ̸̻̣̼̯̖͓̑͛̆̐͑̍̕͘ė̸̡̿͋͆̔̈́.̷̢̳̣̱͎̦̬̠̋̔͛̑̒͌̑͘͠d̵̮͍̹̘̬͉͖̱̾̈́̆̄̄̄͊̏͜͝i̶̛̠͓̗̲͖͗̾͑͛͝a̵̢͉̩̻̞̤͛̋̇̐̓͐͝m̸̨̯͋̅̔̑̇̚̚ớ̶̯͑̋͑͗́̕n̸̡̥̲̲͔̼̋͂͗̎͆̾̋̕̚ḍ̴̛̟̠͆̄͋̈́̅̅͠s̵̪̩̣̻̥͌͐̏́̈́..!

Without hesitation, I reach out, my fingers brushing against one of the glowing diamonds.

The moment I make contact, my vision goes blank.

Everything—sound, sight, and sensation—is swallowed by an endless void.