"How many times has it been of this sameconversation?", I asked Monica.
She seemed visibly surprised, which gave me the indication that I have hit the mark.
"What are you talking about?", she asked, clearly flustered.
It was clear from her statement that she has retained her memory.
But, the question is, was it really her first time?
How many times have I regressed so far?
If the answer is more than one, then it's completely possible that she might have retained her memory of each regression turn.
I can't answer that question because I don't have any memory of it ever happening.
But she remembers.
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 time.
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 me any number of times you want, but everything will just revert back to the normal, the moment I die. Is that what you wanted to confirm this time?", 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 remembers. 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 same pain. Watching the world repeat the same mistakes, knowing it's all going to burn. And each time… you thought killing me 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 me 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 flames 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 me. Reset everything. Wake up one day with your hands soaked in regret and the same hollow feeling in your chest."
I reached out and gently placed a hand on her sword, lowering it slowly.
"Or… you can change the game."
"…Change the game?" she echoed, her voice tight.
"You've tried revenge. Many a times, I believe? Yet, It got you nowhere," I said, leaning in so close that our shadows merged under the false sun of this realm.
"This time, work with me. Let me 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 me 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 me again. You know how."
The flames around her flickered and dimmed.
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 me.
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 comment down your thoughts on this chapter.
If you like the story then add it to your library.
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