Cycle of the Fallen

Ezra stumbled into the chamber, his legs barely carrying him as he leaned heavily against the stone wall. He muttered under his breath, his voice laced with exhaustion and sarcasm.

"Shirley will be sprawled out, arm in the air, snoring loudly. Then he'll wake up, ask where I came from, comment on how haggard I look—again—and then demand food. Probably bread… and wine."

Sure enough, Shirley was sprawled out on the floor, one arm flung dramatically above his head, snoring loudly enough to rival a thunderstorm. Just as Ezra predicted, Shirley stirred, rubbing his face groggily before looking up at him with bleary eyes.

"Where are you coming from?" Shirley asked with a yawn, stretching his arms lazily. "You look as haggard as always."

Ezra rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall for support. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Do you have some bread and—" Shirley began, his words trailing off.

"Wine," Ezra interrupted flatly.

Shirley blinked at him, his face lighting up with surprise. "How'd you know I was about to ask that?"

Ezra snorted, shaking his head as he slid down to sit on the cold floor. "Just a lucky guess."

Ezra glanced at Shirley, who was still sprawled out, looking far too comfortable for someone in an increasingly precarious situation. He rubbed his temples, exhaling sharply before speaking.

"Shirley, I suggest you move from there," Ezra said, his tone sharper than usual.

Shirley raised an eyebrow, still half-asleep.

"Why?" he drawled lazily, clearly not in the mood to comply.

Ezra tilted his head toward the jagged crack in the ceiling directly above Shirley, where loose debris had settled precariously. "Because the rock will fall."

Shirley blinked, looking up at the ceiling as a small pebble dislodged and plinked off his shoulder. His expression shifted from groggy indifference to a stern look.

"No, it won't," he retorted, clearly unimpressed.

Ezra's lavender eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms. "In approximately 20 seconds, it will fall. Unless you want to be a squashed roach, I suggest you move."

Shirley stared at him for a moment, his skepticism evident. But as if on cue, a creak echoed from above, the jagged crack widening slightly.

"Oh, crap!" he yelped, scrambling to his feet just as a chunk of stone came crashing down where he had been lying moments before. Dust and debris filled the air as Shirley stumbled backward, coughing and waving a hand in front of his face.

"Could've warned me sooner!" he snapped, brushing dust from his clothes.

Ezra gave him an unimpressed look, his arms still crossed. "I did. You just didn't listen."

Shirley glared at him. "How'd you know that, anyway?"

Ezra's gaze flickered back to the spot where the rock had fallen, his voice calm but firm. "I just did."

For a fact, Ezra did not know why he was suddenly able to predict certain outcomes. Ever since his body had absorbed the shard, things had been… stranger. The world around him seemed subtly altered, as if a veil had been lifted to reveal something he was never meant to see.

He glanced at the walls of the chamber, his breath catching as he noticed cryptic messages etched into the stone—messages he was sure hadn't been there before.

The glyphs pulsed faintly, and though he couldn't read them in their entirety, certain words and fragments seemed to stand out, glowing brighter than the rest.

"Leave… draining energy… weeping willow… shadow…"

The words felt ominous, pressing down on him like a weight he couldn't shake. His gaze swept across the walls, his chest tightening as he pieced together another sentence that sent a chill through his spine.

"You will die."

Ezra swallowed hard, his fingers brushing against the rough stone as if to confirm the messages were real. They pulsed faintly beneath his touch, radiating a strange, cold energy that made his skin prickle.

A small piece of paper caught Ezra's eye. He bent down, his fingers brushing against the cool stone floor as he picked it up. It was old and covered in dried blood. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the handwriting—it was unmistakably his own. He could recognize his terrible scrawl anywhere.

The words were hurried, as though written in desperation. 

Time is slipping through your fingers. You're stuck in a loop. By now, you've probably noticed that time moves differently in the chamber and outside—it's not just the tree's doing. The tree is draining your resonance, pulling you into a haze, making you weak and vulnerable. If you let it go on too long, you'll lose yourself entirely.

Whatever you do, don't let the monster kill you. Every time it does, the loop resets, and you're back to where you started, none the wiser. You've died countless times already, and you're running out of chances.

The monster is shadow based emerging from the rift zone. It's gotten stronger than when it first appeared .

The monster isn't just after you—it's after the fragment. If it gets to the shard, it will grow stronger, and the barrier will collapse. The shard is a trap, both for the beast and for you. At all cost do not let him posses it. All my effort will be in vain. Protect with your life even if the loop repeats and infinite amount of times .

Do not trust your instincts. Do not make the same mistakes. You have to break the loop. You have to remember.

Whatever you do not not forget.

This is Ezra from the past.