Chapter 11: Fractured Memories

Adrian's eyes snapped open once again. The camp, the tents, the soldiers—they were all exactly as they had been just moments before. But this time, something was different. He could feel it in the very air, in the weight of his limbs, in the fog that clouded his thoughts. His breath was shallow as he struggled to focus. Had this already happened?

The world around him felt too familiar, like a broken record playing on repeat. The events, the decisions—he had lived them all.

Again.

Adrian sat up slowly, rubbing his temples, the sharp memory of a betrayal echoing in his mind like a heartbeat. A dagger, the searing pain, the coldness of steel slicing through his chest—it was so vivid, so real. And yet, the memory was already fading. Slipping. Just like the others.

He gripped the sides of the cot, his fingers digging into the rough fabric as he forced himself to stand. This cannot be real. The thought clawed at him, as if he were drowning in his own mind.

The outside world seemed distant, muted. He moved through the camp, the soldiers' faces blurring around him. It was a feeling he couldn't escape—everything seemed... wrong.

A flash—the battle. The screams. His own shouts, rallying his troops. Then came the moment that tore everything apart. The betrayal.

"Lord Voss, it's an ambush!" Regan had yelled, his voice thick with feigned urgency, and then the metal gleam of the dagger.

Adrian felt the sting of the memory, sharp as if it were happening again. He couldn't shake it. He hadn't shaken it for a long time.

And yet, here he was.

A sharp, guttural scream pierced his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. The battle. It's starting.

"General!" Adrian barked, turning toward Kael, who was already moving toward him. But there was no time for formalities—Adrian's heart was beating too fast. "We need to move. Now."

Kael nodded, his face expressionless, but there was something about the way he walked that sent a tremor through Adrian's chest. This... has already happened.

The generals, the soldiers, they all stood at attention—each face indistinguishable from the last. Adrian moved toward the war table. It was exactly the same as the last loop, the symbols marking the edges of the map. He hadn't seen them before, but now, they were just part of the landscape, like another part of his fractured reality.

Another loop.

The thought rattled through his mind like a drumbeat, growing louder with every breath. He could see it now—the cracks in his perception, the repeating patterns, the endless cycle. But there was something more—something hidden beneath it all. A sense of inevitability that he couldn't escape.

The sound of Kael's voice broke through the fog. "My lord, the enemy's forces are ready. We'll need to move quickly if we want to gain the advantage."

Adrian didn't respond immediately. Instead, his hand hovered over the map, trembling ever so slightly. The insignia. It was back. That same, unfamiliar mark.

Another fragment of memory flickered into place—a battle. No, not again. He was standing in the very same place, staring down the same map. The same insignia had appeared then, too. But that battle had been lost. That war had ended in flames.

"No…" Adrian muttered, his fingers brushing the surface of the table. The map seemed to shift under his touch. The symbols writhed, forming shapes he couldn't comprehend.

"It's happening again," a voice echoed, a whisper from the past.

Adrian jerked back, his eyes wide. The voice had come from his own mouth, yet it wasn't him speaking. The words were too heavy, too laden with despair. He glanced up, meeting Kael's eyes—but Kael's face remained unreadable, his expression unchanged.

Adrian's heart clenched as another memory, another loop, crept into his mind—a flash of the battlefield, the soldiers falling around him, and then... his own death.

A sharp gasp escaped him. This is it. This is the end.

But it wasn't. He was still here. Still fighting. Still moving forward in this endless war.

He stood there for a moment, suspended in time, unable to move. And then, suddenly, the voice came again. Not from him, but from somewhere beyond.

"You will never escape," it whispered.

Adrian's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. He could feel the pressure building, the weight of the words sinking into his mind like a poison. No. This wasn't just about winning. This wasn't about the war. It was something deeper. Something sinister.

He spun on his heel and stormed out of the tent, his eyes fixed on the horizon. The battle had already begun, but the true fight was only just starting.

Flashback

The fog of war. The battlefield stretched out before him like a sea of blood, his soldiers falling, their cries lost in the wind. Regan's treacherous grin as the dagger sank into his chest. The sense of betrayal, the sting of finality. He remembered it all—the desperation to survive, the desperate scramble to make sense of a collapsing world. And yet, no matter how hard he fought, no matter how many times he had tried to change the course of fate...

He never could.

Adrian's chest tightened as he recalled the last time he had died. His body, cold and lifeless, lying among the bodies of his comrades. The battlefield had felt so real then, and yet here he was, standing again on the precipice of it.

The endless loops. The shattered reflections of his past.

And Kael. Always Kael.

Adrian's thoughts were interrupted as Kael approached, his footsteps slow and measured. "My lord, it's time," Kael said, but there was something about his tone—something that made Adrian pause.

Adrian glanced at him, searching for any hint of the betrayal that lay hidden beneath the surface. But Kael's expression was as impassive as ever.

"Lead the men," Adrian said, his voice low. He turned his gaze back to the horizon, but his mind was already far away—lost in the swirl of memories, in the loops that had brought him here once again.

He had to end it. He had to break the cycle.

But how?