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Prologue: The Sun-Cracked Sky

  The sky wasn’t blue anymore. It was the color of a bruised lung, pulsing with a rhythmic, sickly violet light that signaled the end of the world.

  Kaelen stood on the shattered remains of the High Temple’s parapet. His breathing was shallow, whistling through a punctured chest plate. In his right hand, he held a jagged shard of a divine blade; his left arm hung uselessly at his side, shattered by a blow from a God-King he had spent four lifetimes learning to dodge.

  "Kaelen..."

  The voice was weak. Kaelen turned his head slowly. Prince Valen lay slumped against a fallen pillar of white marble. The "Chosen One" looked smaller than usual. His golden cape, once enchanted to never stain, was soaked in the black ichor of the Void. The Holy Sword Aetherius lay ten feet away, dull and cracked.

  "Don't talk, Highness," Kaelen wheezed. "You're wasting mana."

  "I... I think I missed the timing," Valen whispered, a faint, bloody smile touching his lips. "The prophecy said if I struck when the light hit the altar..."

  "The light didn't hit the altar because you tripped over the ceremonial rug, Valen," Kaelen said, his voice devoid of anger. It was just a fact. "You tripped, and the Void King took your head off in Loop 3,902. I parried it this time, but I can't parry a collapsing reality."

  Above them, the Great Rift began to tear. The sound was like a thousand mountain ranges grinding together. The "System" was screaming in Kaelen’s mind, a frantic strobe of red text that blurred his vision.

  [CRITICAL SYSTEM FAILURE] [WORLD INTEGRITY: 0.04%] [USER: KAELEN — TEMPORAL FATIGUE AT MAX]

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  "Next time," Valen gasped, his eyes beginning to glaze over. "Next time, I'll be faster. I'll... I'll train. I promise."

  Kaelen looked down at the boy he had raised, protected, and watched die more times than any human mind was designed to endure. He felt a flicker of something—not pity, not rage, but a cold, hard resolve.

  "There isn't going to be a next time like this one, Valen," Kaelen muttered.

  A shadow moved in the center of the Rift. A Being of infinite darkness leaned through the hole in the universe, a hand made of dead stars reaching down to snuff out the last spark of the world.

  Kaelen didn't close his eyes. He reached into his subconscious and gripped the "Reset" command, the jagged, glowing icon that had been his curse for centuries. But as his mental fingers touched it, the red text changed. It turned gold.

  [HIDDEN CONDITION MET: DEATH AT THE END OF TIME] [TEMPORAL STORE UNLOCKED] [WOULD YOU LIKE TO CONSUME THE 'CHOSEN ONE'S' SOUL TO OVERCLOCK THE NEXT LOOP?]

  Kaelen froze. He looked at the dying Prince. He looked at the approaching darkness.

  "I'm sorry, Highness," Kaelen whispered.

  He didn't hit 'No'. He hit [YES].

  The world didn't dissolve into white static this time. It turned a blinding, violent gold.

  [RESTARTING FROM COMMENCEMENT...] [SYSTEM MODIFIED] [NEW CLASS DETECTED: THE SOUL-BURNING SENTINEL]

  Kaelen’s eyes snapped open. He wasn't on a battlefield. He was face-down in a pile of horse manure in the Royal Stables.

  "Kaelen! Wake up, you lazy dog!"

  A boot shoved his ribs. Kaelen rolled over, his hand instinctively reaching for a dagger that wasn't there. He looked up. It was Valen—younger, fatter, and holding a wooden practice sword.

  "Today’s the day!" Valen cheered. "The Oracle is coming! I can feel my destiny calling!"

  Kaelen looked at the Prince, then he looked at his own hands. They were shaking. And floating right in front of his face was a new, golden window that hadn't been there in the previous 4,103 loops.

  [CURRENT OBJECTIVE: ENSURE THE PRINCE’S SURVIVAL (0/1)] [BONUS OBJECTIVE: DO NOT KILL THE PRINCE YOURSELF (REWARD: ???)]

  Kaelen stared at the "Bonus Objective." He looked at the Prince’s smiling, punchable face.

  I can't promise that, Kaelen thought.

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