The sun was rising over Crimson Academy, painting the sky in soft shades of orange and gold. Birds flew past the tower roofs, and the morning breeze was gentle, almost calming. Students filled the courtyard like they always did — walking in groups, laughing at silly jokes, heading to their first classes with sleepy eyes and half-eaten breakfast buns in hand.

For them, it was just another ordinary day.

But for me…

It was the same day.

Again.

I stood alone by the fountain, my eyes locked on the rippling water. My reflection stared back at me — quiet, tired, but alert. My long silver-blonde hair flowed in the breeze, soft waves falling down my back. I wore a deep midnight blue robe with silver embroidery, tied with a red sash at my waist. The robe was open in front, showing my black tank top and shorts underneath. It wasn’t the usual school uniform. But after repeating this day four times, I had stopped caring about rules.

I looked up. Same sky. Same voices.

Even that boy near the gate tripped over his shoelaces again.

This was the fourth time.

Everything kept happening the same way. Over and over.

Three days ago, on my seventeenth birthday, my grandmother gave me a strange gift — an old silver pocket watch. She looked at me seriously when she placed it in my hand.

"This is not just a watch, Lyra. It’s a choice."

A choice for what? She didn’t explain. She disappeared that same night. No letter. No clue. Just gone.

Since then… I’ve been stuck.

The pocket watch hangs from a thin chain around my neck. I held it in my hand now, staring at the surface. Smooth. Cold. Etched with ancient symbols I couldn’t read. Every time I open it, it ticks once… then stops.

No second tick. No movement.

Just silence.

It’s like time itself is frozen. Like I’m the only one moving forward… while the rest of the world stays stuck on repeat.

The academy bell rang in the distance.

Right on time.

Same as always.

I looked around. The same teacher dropped her books at the same spot. Two friends near the courtyard bench laughed at the same meme on their phones. Someone in the distance shouted, “You’re late again, Kai!”

Even that voice was exactly the same.

I wasn’t dreaming.

This wasn’t a prank.

I’ve already tried everything — skipping class, shouting in the middle of assembly, even running to the headmaster’s office.

But when the sun sets… the day resets.

I woke up in my dorm, and it’s this morning again.

I’ve cried. I’ve panicked. I screamed into my pillow.

But now? I was done feeling scared.

If time wanted to play with me, fine.

Let’s play.

I slipped the watch back under my robe, took a deep breath, and started walking toward the tower. If this day was going to repeat forever…

Then I’d use every version of it to find the truth.

Even if I had to live it a hundred more times.

The tower stairs creaked beneath my boots as I climbed. The air inside was dusty and still, like time hadn’t touched this place in years. Maybe it hadn’t. Maybe I was the only one even moving through it.

Every morning for the last three loops, I’d walked past this tower. Ignored it. Told myself it was pointless. But today, something felt… different. Like the air around me was whispering, “Go. Now.”

I reached the top floor. Old wooden door. Brass handle.

No one ever came here — not even teachers.

But when I placed my hand on the knob, I felt warmth.

I froze.

That wasn’t right.

This door should’ve been cold like always. Empty like always. But this time, it felt like someone had touched it recently.

Slowly, I pushed the door open.

The room was dim, sunlight peeking through broken blinds. Books were stacked high on the shelves, and strange papers were spread across a desk. Symbols. Diagrams. Timelines.

And then…

A voice.

“You’re not supposed to be here. Yet.”

I turned fast.

A boy stood in the shadowed corner. Lean, tall, black uniform jacket half off his shoulder like he couldn’t care less. His hair was messy — that kind of perfect messy — and his eyes? They weren’t surprised to see me.

In fact, they looked like they’d been waiting.

“Who are you?” I asked, stepping back.

He didn’t move. “I’m someone like you.”

My fingers curled around the watch under my robe. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does,” he said quietly. “You’re looping. I can see it in your eyes.”

My heart skipped. “You… remember?”

He nodded once. “I’ve been stuck here too. Longer than you.”

I couldn’t speak. My chest tightened, and for a second, I wasn’t scared — I was just relieved. I wasn’t alone. Someone else knew. Someone else understood.

He stepped into the light now. His eyes were grey. Cold and sharp like steel, but not cruel. Just tired. Like me.

“You’re Lyra Alden,” he said. “You got the watch four days ago. You’ve tried to break the loop three different ways. None of them worked.”

I narrowed my eyes. “How do you know that?”

“Because I’ve seen it,” he said. “Many, many times.”

I didn’t want to believe it. But deep down, I did. I had felt alone for so long. Even if it was just four days… reliving the same one over and over made time feel endless.

He pointed to the desk. “There’s more to that watch than you think. Your grandmother gave it to you for a reason.”

“You knew her?”

“No,” he said. “But I knew someone like her. And I’ve been looking for someone like you.”

I stepped closer, heart racing. “What do you mean?”

He looked at me, serious now. “If you really want to break the loop, Lyra… you’ll have to stop following the script.”

“What script?”

He smiled faintly. “The one time wants you to follow.”

I stared at him. His voice was calm, his words smooth… maybe a little too smooth.

Everything about him made sense — maybe too much sense.

“You knew I’d come here,” I said slowly.

He tilted his head. “Eventually. Curiosity always wins with your type.”

My type? That irritated me.

I took a step back. “You’re saying I’ve been here before… with you?”

He nodded. “Yes. Many times.”

“How many?”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he turned away, walking back to the desk, flipping through papers covered in strange writing. His calm made me nervous — like he knew something I didn’t. Like he always knew something I didn’t.

“Why should I trust you?” I asked, crossing my arms. “What if you’re the one who caused all this?”

He didn’t look surprised. “Good. Keep thinking like that.”

I blinked. “What?”

He turned his eyes back to me. “This loop isn’t a game. People who trust too fast lose faster. If you believed me too quickly, you’d be dead by now. Again.”

Again?

A chill ran down my spine.

“You’re saying I’ve died before?” I whispered.

He paused. “…Yeah.”

Silence. Heavy. Sharp. It felt like the room itself had stopped breathing.

I looked down at the watch, feeling its cold weight against my chest. The thought of dying and not even remembering it… made my stomach twist.

“What’s your name?” I asked, voice low.

He hesitated for the first time. “You used to call me Kael.”

“Used to?”

He gave me a tired smile. “You’ll remember eventually. Some things… come back in pieces.”

I didn’t like that answer.

Kael turned toward the window, staring at the academy below. “You still think this is about you,” he said softly. “It’s not. It’s about the watch. You're just the one holding it.”

I looked at the silver timepiece again. It looked so small… yet it held me prisoner.

“Then help me break it,” I said. “Help me end the loop.”

He turned to me, eyes narrowing. “If you really want to break the loop, you need to stop playing safe. Stop going to class. Stop being the good girl. Stop walking the path they expect you to walk.”

“And start what?”

He stepped close, his voice like a whisper only time could hear.

“Start remembering who you were… before the day started looping.”

Before the loop?

Was there even a "before" anymore?

My head ached, and for a second, the room spun. Images flickered in my mind — a storm, someone screaming my name, fire in the sky, and a hand reaching out to me…

But they vanished just as fast.

I stumbled back. “No. I… I don’t remember anything like that.”

Kael nodded slowly. “You will.”

He walked to the door and looked over his shoulder. “The loop resets at midnight, Lyra. You’ve got less than fifteen hours. Use them well. You won’t have long before things… change.”

“Change how?”

He opened the door. “You’ll see.”

Then he was gone.

And for the first time…

I realized this loop wasn’t just about escape.

It was about finding out who I really was — and what I’d already lost.