Takumi Hasegawa’s breath hitched as he blinked, disoriented. The last thing he remembered was stepping off the curb in the rain. A red light. Static in his earbuds. And then... nothing.

Now, his cheek pressed against cold, cracked stone, and a strange, acrid scent filled the air. The wind tugged at his hair as he pushed himself up, confusion clouding his mind. He was no longer in Tokyo.

Looking around, he saw a ruined shrine atop a jagged hill, the sky above tinged with an unnatural crimson. Dark, heavy clouds hovered like a suffocating blanket. The air was thick, oppressive, as though it held secrets he wasn’t meant to know. The only sound was a distant rustling, as though something watched him from the shadows.

Where was he? How did he get here?

His eyes scanned the ancient stonework beneath him. Symbols and runes were carved deep into the stone, their edges weathered by time. They pulsed faintly with an eerie warmth. The place had the aura of something forgotten, abandoned by time—and yet, alive in a way that sent a chill up his spine.

Takumi staggered to his feet, unsteady on the uneven ground. His clothes—his school uniform—were torn and stained. Blood spattered his hands, but he couldn’t remember why. He wiped them on his jeans, but the stain wouldn’t disappear.

Then, his gaze fell on a figure lying motionless near a broken altar. A girl. Silver hair spilled across her shoulders, and her cloak was torn and stained with blood. She looked pale, as though life itself was draining from her body.

Fear lanced through him, pushing him into motion. His legs moved before he could think, stepping closer to the girl. He knelt beside her, reaching out, but as his fingers brushed her skin, a sudden sharp pain stabbed through his skull.

The world shuddered.

He gasped, clutching his head as images flashed before his eyes—flames, screams, metal grinding against bone. His own voice, crying out in pain. Dying. Over and over again.

Takumi gasped for air, choking on the suffocating terror. It felt as though his mind was being torn apart, memories warping and twisting, impossibly fast. In a single breath, his vision blurred, his senses spinning.

And then… the pain stopped.

The sudden silence was deafening. His breathing slowed, but his heart raced. The shrine was the same, the air still thick with unease. But he felt... different. Not just physically. He felt as though something within him had shifted.

A whisper brushed his mind, not words, but something far more ominous.

Cycle 1 begins.

Takumi blinked. The voice was soft, distant, and yet it felt like it was pressing against his very soul.

Cycle? What cycle? He didn’t understand. His head throbbed with confusion, his mind fogged by what felt like a thousand thoughts at once. He pushed himself to his feet again, the weight of something unknown pulling at his chest.

Looking down at the girl, his gaze softened. There was something familiar about her, something he couldn’t place. He knelt again, lifting her limp form with more ease than he expected. He needed to do something, to fix this. But in the back of his mind, he couldn’t shake the thought that nothing he did would change what was coming.

A final whisper echoed in his thoughts.

Death is just the beginning.

The weight of the unknown loomed over him as he began to walk, his every step echoing the certainty of a fate that would never let him go.

The cold wind bit at Takumi’s face as he staggered down the hill, the girl’s limp form still cradled in his arms. Her silver hair fluttered like a ghost behind her, an eerie contrast to the dark, dying landscape. The shrine was already far behind him, hidden by the twisted trees and overgrown roots that seemed to emerge from the earth itself, choking the life out of the land.

Takumi didn’t know where he was going. There was no sign of civilization, no road or structure, just endless ruin. His heart pounded in his chest, fear creeping into his mind. Every footstep felt heavier than the last, the weight of the girl in his arms growing unbearable with every passing second.

He glanced down at her, her pale face devoid of any expression. She looked delicate—fragile—but there was something else beneath the surface. A power, dormant yet undeniable, clung to her like a silent promise.

"Stay with me," Takumi muttered to himself, though the words seemed meaningless in the vast emptiness around him. He had no idea how he could help her, or if he could at all. The strange ache in his chest, the one that had flared up when he first woke, was growing stronger the longer he carried her. The air itself seemed to tighten, pressing down on him, urging him to act before it was too late.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of wandering through the desolate land, Takumi saw something that caught his eye: a small cottage, half-hidden by the crumbling remains of a stone wall. It was the first sign of life he had encountered since he arrived in this twisted world. Without thinking, he made his way toward it, his legs trembling beneath him.

The door creaked open as he approached, revealing a darkened interior. Inside, the air smelled faintly of herbs and old wood. It was empty, save for the shadows that danced in the corners of the room. Takumi hesitated only for a moment before stepping inside, setting the girl down gently on a worn rug near the hearth.

Her breathing was shallow, her lips pale, but she was still alive. That much was clear. Takumi ran his hands over his face in frustration, feeling the weight of the unknown pressing down on him. What was happening? Where was he? And why was this girl so important?

He searched the room for anything that might help. On a nearby shelf, he found a small vial of what appeared to be some sort of potion, a faint glow emanating from within. His hands shook as he picked it up, the words “Healing Elixir” faintly etched into the glass.

“Here goes nothing,” Takumi muttered, uncorking the vial and pouring the liquid carefully onto the girl’s lips. The moment the liquid touched her skin, her body shuddered, a low, guttural sound escaping her throat. Takumi pulled back, watching as her eyes fluttered open, glowing faintly silver in the dim light.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, his breath catching in his throat. The girl’s gaze was sharp, piercing, yet somehow distant—like someone who had seen far too much in a world that had already forgotten her. Slowly, she sat up, the cold expression on her face never wavering.

“You…” she began, her voice low and raspy. “You don’t belong here.”

Takumi frowned, his heart pounding. “I—”

“You’ve been chosen,” she continued, her eyes narrowing as if she could see through him. “To bear witness to the end. But you won’t survive long, not without help.”

“Help?” Takumi echoed, confused. “What do you mean? Who are you?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she stared past him, her gaze distant, as though listening to something far beyond the walls of the cottage. Then, her lips parted once more, but this time her voice was colder, more commanding.

“My name is Lyra,” she said, her tone final. “And you’ve just entered a world on the edge of destruction. Welcome to Aerium.”

The word sent a chill down Takumi’s spine. Aerium. The name echoed in his mind, but he couldn’t recall why. It was as if he had heard it before in a dream, but the memory was buried too deep for him to grasp.

“Aerium?” Takumi repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “What’s happening here? Why can’t I remember anything? Why… why can’t I die?”

Lyra’s eyes softened for a fraction of a second, but the coldness returned just as quickly. “You’ll understand soon enough,” she said, standing up and brushing the dust from her cloak. “But first, you need to survive the first cycle. Trust me, your death won’t be the worst part of it.”

Takumi awoke with a start.

The room was still dim, the cottage silent except for the crackling of the hearth. He blinked rapidly, his pulse quickening as he shot up from the floor, his body tense. The feeling of dread that had clung to him earlier hadn’t gone away. If anything, it had only grown stronger. He hadn’t died, had he?

His gaze swept over the room. Lyra was still sitting by the fire, her eyes closed, her posture relaxed as though nothing was amiss. She hadn’t moved since the moment she’d spoken those cryptic words.

Takumi’s heart thudded in his chest as he stood, his hands shaking as he placed them on the doorframe. His mind raced—everything felt… different. The weight of the day before pressed on him, the memories of the shrine, the strange looping sensation that had gripped him, the fear, the dying. The sudden, inexplicable ache in his chest. It felt as though he’d lived this moment already. Again.

“No…” Takumi whispered. “No, this can’t be happening.”

The room seemed to tilt. His vision blurred, and for a split second, he thought he might lose his balance. The world around him shimmered as if reality itself was being distorted.

Then, everything snapped back into place.

Lyra’s voice cut through the silence like a blade.

“You’ve experienced it already,” she said softly, though her words were laced with an undeniable weight. “This is the first cycle.”

Takumi looked at her, his breath caught in his throat. “The first cycle?” he repeated, the words feeling foreign in his mouth.

Lyra rose from her seat, her movements fluid and purposeful. “Yes. The first of many. You won’t remember all of them, not in detail, but it will feel as though you've lived this life over and over. The truth is, you’re caught in a cycle, a loop where death is never the end. Your body may die, but you will always return.”

Takumi's legs felt weak beneath him as he sank back down onto the floor. “This isn’t possible. It’s a dream, a nightmare. I’ve… I’ve died before. I remember dying. I…”

“You are not dreaming,” Lyra interrupted. “And you are not dead. You’re just... trapped. This world, Aerium, is decaying. Time itself is broken. And you, Takumi, are part of the reason.”

Takumi swallowed hard. "What do you mean?"

Lyra took a slow step toward him, her silver eyes locked onto his. “You are the key to the collapse of this world. And every time you die, you reset, but it’s not enough. The curse will continue until you learn what it’s asking of you. Only then will you be free.”

The weight of her words settled over him like a thick, suffocating fog. Takumi tried to make sense of it all, but his mind was too clouded. How could this be real? How could he—an ordinary college dropout—be the cause of such destruction? He wasn’t some hero destined to save the world. He was just a guy who had been thrown into a nightmare.

Lyra stood still for a moment, then turned toward the small window. “Every death you experience will teach you something. If you want to survive, you must learn. But beware, Takumi. The cycles will change. The rules will shift. And in the end, the only thing that matters is whether you’re willing to make the sacrifices necessary to escape.”

Takumi struggled to his feet, his mind spinning. “Escape… from what?”

Lyra met his gaze, her expression unreadable. “From the cycle. From this world.”

The silence between them grew heavy, the weight of everything unsaid pressing in on Takumi’s chest. A part of him wanted to shout, to demand answers, to fight back. But another part of him—deeper, darker—wondered if he had already lost before he even began.

He had died before, hadn’t he? He remembered the pain, the finality of it. It was supposed to be over, but now, he was here again, alive in a world that seemed to mock his existence.

“What do I do now?” Takumi asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lyra’s lips curled into a faint, almost melancholic smile. “You survive. You die. And you learn.”