"How many tis has it been of this saconversation?", I asked Monica.
She seed visibly surprised, which gave the indication that I have hit the mark.
"What are you talking about?", she asked, clearly flustered.
It was clear from her statent that she has retained her mory.
But, the question is, was it really her first ti?
How many tis have I regressed so far?
If the answer is more than one, then it’s completely possible that she might have retained her mory of each regression turn.
I can’t answer that question because I don’t have any mory of it ever happening.
But she rembers.
Everything bit by bit.
And there is a reason why I am emphasizing on the possibility of this situation being her 3rd, 4th or even 5th ti.
That’s because, regression is not a common concept in such web novel stories.
Well, common for the authors to use, but except from the main character, no one else seem to be familiarized with it.
If that’s the case, then Monica would have been clueless about the trigger of the regression during the initial regressions.
Then, eventually, she found out that my death is actually the trigger.
"You can kill any number of tis you want, but everything will just revert back to the normal, the mont I die. Is that what you wanted to confirm this ti?", I asked her.
Hesitation was oozing out of her eyes, while I stood back up and locked my eyes onto her.
A pause lingered in the air between us, heavy with unspoken truths.
She didn’t deny it.
She couldn’t.
I stepped closer—not with aggression, but with calculated calm. My voice softened, like a parent soothing a frightened child, even though the words I spoke were anything but gentle.
"You didn’t tell anyone about it, did you? "
She flinched.
Bingo.
"Because how could you?" I continued, tilting my head slightly. "No one else rembers. You’d look insane. Desperate. Grieving a future that never happened."
Her hands, still clutching the sword, were trembling now.
I took another step, the distance between us almost gone.
"You’ve been alone in this, Monica. Over and over again. Reliving the sa pain. Watching the world repeat the sa mistakes, knowing it’s all going to burn. And each ti... you thought killing would stop it. Break the cycle."
Her lips pressed into a line, trying to stay composed.
But I knew. I knew I had her now.
"But it didn’t work," I whispered. "Did it?"
Silence.
"Do you know why?" I said, letting a smirk slowly creep onto my face. "Because you’re not the protagonist of this story."
She looked at sharply.
"You never were," I added. "You’re just a piece on the board—strong, noble, yes, but replaceable. Controlled by your emotions. Trapped in a loop you can’t escape from."
Her eyes flared in anger again. The flas flickered around her like a warning, but I didn’t stop.
"I’m giving you a choice now, Monica Croft," I said, letting my tone turn colder, more commanding. "You can try again. Kill . Reset everything. Wake up one day with your hands soaked in regret and the sa hollow feeling in your chest."
I reached out and gently placed a hand on her sword, lowering it slowly.
"Or... you can change the ga."
"...Change the ga?" she echoed, her voice tight.
"You’ve tried revenge. Many a tis, I believe? Yet, It got you nowhere," I said, leaning in so close that our shadows rged under the false sun of this realm.
"This ti, work with . Let show you a different path. Not as your enemy... but as your ally."
She opened her mouth to protest, but I cut her off.
"No, not out of trust. I wouldn’t trust either if I were you," I said with a chuckle. "But because deep down, you know I am the one who have answers to all your questions."
Her hand twitched.
"If I betray you—"
I stepped back, arms outstretched.
"—kill again. You know how."
The flas around her flickered and dimd.
She was shaking.
With rage.
With confusion.
With the weight of decisions she thought she’d already made.
"...I don’t forgive you," she finally said, her voice barely a whisper.
"You don’t have to," I replied smoothly. "I don’t need forgiveness. I just need your fire pointed in the right direction."
She said nothing.
Then slowly, she turned her back to .
Her voice was low, strained.
"This isn’t over, Dorian Valen."
I smiled.
"No. It’s just begun."
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Author’s Note :
Please comnt down your thoughts on this Chapter.
If you like the story then add it to your library.
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