When the world reset again, Yuto didn't move.
He stared at his ceiling in silence, hands clenched, pulse steady like a metronome ticking toward madness. This time, the loop had changed the rules.
Aira had died after the normal loop's reset point.
Which meant the timeline could be stretched… altered. But something—someone—was watching, adjusting behind the scenes. And worst of all, they were starting to lose.
He met Aira behind the library the next morning, the only place quiet enough to think. She remembered again. Not everything, but more. Enough to recognize the weight in his eyes.
"What are we fighting?" she asked. "What's causing this?"
Yuto hesitated, then pulled a thin notebook from his bag—pages filled with maps, conversations, and possible variables.
"I've been calling it 'The Loop Core'—some kind of anchor point in space-time. Every death, every reset… it's orbiting that fixed event. But lately, the orbit is warping."
Aira flipped through the pages, eyes narrowing. "What about the figure in the forest?"
"He knew my name. He called me 'boy,' like he's been watching us."
"Then he's not part of the loop. He's something outside of it."
Yuto's jaw clenched. "Or worse… he's what created it."
They started testing again. Triggering school alarms at different moments. Redirecting students away from high-traffic areas. Blocking stairwells. But with every success came sharper resistance.
One student collapsed after seeing Aira's face—claiming she "didn't belong." Another swore time had reversed during gym class but had no memory of who said it.
The world was cracking.
Late that night, Aira called him in a panic.
"I saw myself," she whispered. "Another me. Standing outside my house. Smiling. Then it disappeared."
Yuto's blood ran cold.
Doppelgängers. False echoes. The loop was starting to reflect them back at themselves.
This wasn't just a puzzle anymore.
It was a war for control of time.
And the enemy had been playing far longer than they had.