The First Threat Unravels

The night felt heavier.

Rael stood beneath the crumbling watchtower, staring at the man before him. The weight of the conversation pressed against his ribs, curling in his chest like something alive.

"This war has happened before."

The words hadn't stopped echoing.

But this man—this supposed enemy commander—was still watching him, still waiting for something.

For him to react.

For him to believe.

For him to understand.

Rael exhaled slowly, forcing his body to remain loose. Every instinct told him to be cautious, to measure his next words carefully.

So he did.

"You're saying this war is repeating," he said.

The man nodded once. "Yes."

"And that I've died before."

Another nod. "Many times."

Rael's jaw clenched. "Then why don't I remember?"

The man's lips pressed into a thin line.

"Because you never do."

A cold chill crawled down Rael's spine.

---

The Enemy Who Wasn't the Enemy

Rael studied him in the dim firelight. The man's armor was battered but well-maintained, the insignia on his chest scratched and faded. A long scar ran down his left cheek, disappearing beneath the folds of his hood.

Everything about him screamed warrior.

And yet, there was something else beneath the surface.

A tiredness. A quiet resignation.

Like someone who had spent far too long fighting a battle he already knew he couldn't win.

Rael shifted slightly, eyes narrowing. "Who are you?"

The man exhaled.

"You used to call me Ithan."

A name Rael had never heard before.

But the moment it was spoken, something stirred inside him.

Not a memory.

Not a thought.

Just… a feeling.

A flicker of something almost familiar.

His fingers twitched at his side.

"That's not an answer," Rael said.

Ithan's mouth curved slightly. "No. But it's the only one I can give you."

Rael kept his expression blank, but his mind was racing.

He had come here for answers.

But all he was finding were more questions.

---

The World Was Listening

A gust of wind swept through the ruins.

Rael ignored it.

But Ithan?

Ithan's entire body tensed. His head tilted slightly, gaze shifting to the trees just beyond the clearing.

Then, quietly—

"We shouldn't talk here."

Rael frowned. "Why?"

Ithan's eyes flickered back to him. "Because the longer we speak, the more the world takes notice."

Rael's stomach tightened.

He didn't like that phrasing.

But before he could respond, something shifted.

The air turned heavy.

Not figuratively.

The space around them felt thicker, denser—like the world itself was pressing down.

Then—

A low sound.

Not an animal. Not the wind.

Something else.

Ithan swore. "We need to move. Now."

Rael had barely processed the words before something stepped into the clearing.

---

A Glitch in Reality

At first, it looked like a man.

Tall. Clad in armor. A sword gripped loosely in one hand.

But then it moved.

And Rael realized—it wasn't walking.

It was flickering.

Like something half-finished, its form shifting in and out of focus, as if reality itself couldn't decide whether it existed or not.

Rael's pulse pounded.

Ithan had already drawn his weapon. His stance was tense, his breathing sharp and controlled.

"Damn it," he muttered. "I was hoping we had more time."

Rael's fingers curled around his own sword. "What is that?"

Ithan's jaw tightened.

"A mistake."

The thing flickered again, its head tilting toward them as if seeing them for the first time.

Then—

It lunged.

---

The Attack That Shouldn't Have Happened

Rael barely moved in time.

The creature's sword crashed down where he had just been standing, splitting stone, sending shards of debris flying. He twisted away, blade flashing, striking out on instinct.

His sword met nothing.

For a second, it had been solid.

Then it wasn't.

Rael landed a few feet away, breathing hard. His mind struggled to process what had just happened.

The thing straightened.

It watched him.

Then it lunged again.

Ithan intercepted it this time, his sword clashing against the flickering figure. Sparks danced between them, metal scraping against something that wasn't quite real.

"Stop thinking about it!" Ithan shouted. "Just kill it!"

Rael didn't like that plan.

But he didn't have a better one.

He moved.

Faster.

More instinct than thought, his blade cutting through the shifting thing, carving through flickering edges of reality.

This time, it reacted.

It let out a distorted sound, something like a scream and static fused together. Its form glitched again, warping, twisting—

And then, suddenly, violently—

It wasn't there anymore.

Like something had erased it.

Rael didn't lower his sword.

He could still feel it.

The weight of its existence, pressing at the edges of reality.

Then, finally, it was gone.

Silence.

Ithan exhaled heavily, rolling his shoulders. "Well. That was annoying."

Rael slowly turned to him. "What the hell was that?"

Ithan met his gaze.

And then, in a quiet, measured tone—

"That," he said, "was what happens when the world realizes you're not playing by its rules."

Rael felt something cold settle inside him.

Because this wasn't just about memory anymore.

This was about control.

And something—someone—was trying to make sure he never found out the truth.