The First Cycle

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.”

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