Nathan's body sat cross-legged near the fire, his eyes half-closed, lips parted as if whispering words only he could hear. His breathing was slow, even, unnaturally calm.
Jalen paced impatiently, his gaze flicking between Nathan and the twisted shadows beyond the village. "What the hell's wrong with him?"
"He's not responding," Kullen said, his voice taut. "It's like he's… stuck."
"Another one of Veyruun's tricks," Lucio muttered, his fingers twitching over his rifle. "That bastard's picking us off one by one."
"Then we keep watch," Kullen said firmly. "He'll come out of it. Whatever trial Veyruun's thrown at him, Nathan will get through it."
But Kullen's words were tainted with doubt. As he spoke, Nathan's face twitched, his brows creasing like he was trapped in some unspeakable nightmare.
Nathan's vision swam as the world folded around him, colors bleeding into darkness before solidifying again.
He stood on a familiar street—Veyport, its narrow alleys and towering buildings stretching toward a sky streaked with crimson and gold. The air was thick with the stench of smoke and salt.
Nathan's fingers twitched instinctively, his body falling into a combat stance before his mind even registered the threat. He knew this place. This moment.
The fight.
Jalen stood across from him, his stance loose, playful, yet lethal. The same cocky grin plastered across his face. Only this time, his eyes were a fierce, unyielding gold.
"Come on, Nathan," Jalen taunted, his voice echoing like a distorted recording. "You're too slow."
Nathan lunged forward, his fists swinging in precise, calculated arcs. Jalen dodged effortlessly, his movements a blur of unpredictability and precision.
Every strike Nathan attempted was countered. Every plan shattered before it even began.
Seconds stretched into minutes, minutes into hours. Nathan's breath grew ragged, his body aching with the effort. But the fight continued. Relentless.
"No… this isn't real," Nathan whispered, his gaze darting around the battlefield. "This is… Veyruun. Another trick."
But the moment he acknowledged it, the world twisted, reshaping itself to the exact same scene.
He was back at the start. Facing Jalen. The same taunting grin. The same twisted echoes of his voice.
Back in the frozen village, the fire crackled weakly against the cold. Snow continued to fall, settling over rooftops and twisting branches like a silent curse.
Nathan's body remained motionless where he had sat down, cross-legged and straight-backed. His eyes were shut, his breathing slow and shallow. It was as if he were meditating, lost in some unreachable depth of his own mind.
Lucio paced around the fire, his rifle resting over his shoulder. "It's been hours."
"And he hasn't moved an inch," Kullen replied, his gaze fixed on Nathan's still form.
"He looks like he's frozen," Jalen said, his voice tight. "Like he's stuck in place."
"It's not just his body." Lucio knelt down beside Nathan, his fingers brushing against the man's wrist. "His pulse is slow. Way too slow."
"Veyruun's messing with him," Jalen snapped, his fists clenched. "Whatever trial he's facing, it's got him locked up."
"We have to do something," Lucio insisted, his voice edged with frustration. "We can't just leave him like this."
"If we interfere, we could end up making it worse," Kullen said, his expression grim. "Veyruun's trials are designed to break you. To test something specific."
"What could he possibly be testing by turning Nathan into a damn statue?" Jalen growled, his eyes flickering between gold and violet.
"Maybe it's not his body being tested," Kullen replied, his gaze never leaving Nathan. "Maybe it's his mind."
The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. They watched Nathan's unmoving form, the only sign of life being the faint rise and fall of his chest.
"How long do we wait?" Lucio asked, his tone strained.
Kullen's jaw tightened. "As long as it takes."
Nathan lost track of how many times the loop reset. How many times he hurled himself at Jalen, only to be met with failure.
He tried everything. Altering his tactics. Changing his approach. Using his powers in ways he'd never attempted before.
But it was never enough.
Days blurred into weeks. Weeks into months. And still, the fight continued.
Every time he failed, the loop would reset. And every time it did, Nathan felt something inside him fray a little more.
He watched the sun rise and fall over Veyport countless times. Watched the cityscape shift and twist, its colors fading to monochrome before brightening again.
"Come on, Nathan," Jalen taunted, his voice a constant, grating presence. "You're too slow."
"Shut up!" Nathan roared, his voice breaking. "Just… shut up…"
But Jalen only grinned, his eyes burning with that same unyielding gold.
"You're wasting your time," Jalen said, his tone dripping with mockery. "Every time you fail, you just make it worse."
"Enough…" Nathan whispered, his knees buckling. His body trembled, the weight of failure pressing down on him like a physical force. "Enough…"
But the world twisted.
And he was back at the start.
The fire had burned low, reduced to smoldering embers that struggled to provide warmth. Lucio had stopped pacing, now crouched beside Nathan, his fingers trembling with frustration.
"It's been hours, Kullen. Hours."
"Hours to us. But who knows what Veyruun is making him go through," Kullen replied.
Jalen's eyes narrowed, his voice tight. "You're telling me we're supposed to just sit here and wait while Veyruun rips his mind apart?"
"If we try to break him out of it, we could make it worse," Kullen argued. "What if this is something he has to work through on his own?"
"And what if he can't?" Jalen snapped. "What if Veyruun keeps him locked in there forever?"
Kullen's eyes darkened. "Nathan's stronger than you think. He'll figure it out."
"Yeah?" Jalen shot back. "You sound real sure of that."
"I am." Kullen's voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed his doubt. "We have to trust him."
But as the hours dragged on, that trust began to erode. And the icy wind carried with it the silent, creeping fear that Nathan might not return.
Nathan ran.
His feet pounded against the cracked streets of Veyport, his breath ragged, his limbs heavy with exhaustion. The city stretched out before him like a twisted reflection of itself—buildings decayed, streets warped and unfamiliar.
Everything was wrong. Everything was wrong because he had been here too long.
"Running away again, Nathan?"
Jalen's voice rang out from somewhere behind him, sharp and taunting. It was the same voice that had haunted him for what felt like decades.
Nathan's hair was streaked with gray, his face lined with age. His body ached, bones grinding against joints that had been worn down from countless battles.
But worst of all was his mind. Thirty years—that's how long it felt like he'd been trapped in this loop. Thirty years of failure. Thirty years of being hunted by a man who was no longer his friend.
"Face me, Nathan!"
The voice grew louder, closer. Nathan staggered, his eyes wild and desperate. The cityscape blurred and twisted as he drew upon his powers, the flow of time bending to his will.
Buildings crumbled into dust only to reform seconds later. The air itself shimmered as Nathan forced it to move slower, faster, anything to break free. But no matter how he manipulated the world around him, Jalen was always there. Always a step ahead.
Nathan turned a corner and collapsed against a shattered wall, his chest heaving.
"I… I can't… keep running…"
Footsteps approached. Slow, deliberate. Nathan forced himself to his feet, his fists trembling from fatigue.
Jalen emerged from the shadows, his form twisted by power. The Time Breaker form had manifested fully—glyphs glowing like clockwork along his arms and chest, their motion a steady, relentless ticking.
His eyes—gold and blazing—pierced through Nathan like spears.
"Finally done running?" Jalen asked, his voice smooth but edged with mockery. "About damn time."
Nathan's fists clenched. He'd tried everything. Reversing time. Slowing it. Accelerating his own speed. But Jalen—this impossible reflection of Jalen—always adapted. Always countered.
"Come on, Nathan," Loop Jalen taunted, his grin savage and cruel. "You've been playing the same tricks for thirty years. And you think you can beat me now?"
Nathan's gaze hardened. "I'm… not the same man I was when this started."
Jalen laughed. "Neither am I."
They clashed.
Nathan's powers flared to their absolute limits. Time folded around him, currents bending and snapping under his control. He tore apart the fabric of reality, accelerating his movements to a speed beyond comprehension.
But Loop Jalen moved just as fast. The glyphs on his body spun like clock hands, guiding his attacks with ruthless precision. Every strike from Nathan was countered, every attempt to slow Jalen's advance was shattered by sheer force.
Nathan ducked under a vicious swing, his body twisting as he lashed out with a blast of raw temporal energy.
Jalen absorbed the attack, his grin widening. "You think you're the only one who can break the rules?"
The glyphs on Jalen's arms flashed, their glow intensifying. Suddenly, Nathan's own powers began to distort—time itself rebelling against him.
Nathan stumbled, his senses screaming. His power was turning against him, slipping from his grasp like sand.
"Damn it…" Nathan growled. "You're not even real. Just… a puppet. A trick!"
"And yet you still can't beat me," Jalen sneered. "You're nothing but a man playing with forces beyond your control."
Nathan's eyes narrowed. "Maybe… but I'm still standing."
With a roar, Nathan unleashed everything. His powers surged outward, rewinding and accelerating time simultaneously, creating a storm of chaotic energy that tore through the air.
The force collided with Jalen, the two of them locked in a furious struggle. Fists collided, blows exchanged with the speed of lightning.
Jalen's glyphs spun violently, their motion threatening to tear Nathan apart. But Nathan pressed on, his mind sharpened by thirty years of failure.
He let the flow of time twist around him, not fighting it, but embracing it. His body blurred, splitting into overlapping images—each one striking at Jalen from a different angle.
The illusion faltered. Loop Jalen's expression flickered with doubt, the glyphs sputtering as if disrupted.
"You can't keep this up," Nathan shouted, his voice raw. "You're just… an imitation!"
Jalen lunged forward, his fists striking out with deadly precision. But Nathan had already moved, his body slipping through gaps in time with an elegance that had taken years—decades—to master.
Nathan's hands surged with power, and he drove them forward, forcing his abilities into Jalen's chest with everything he had.
The world fractured around them. Loop Jalen's form twisted, his grin cracking into something monstrous before shattering like glass.
The echoes of his voice faded into silence.
Nathan's eyes snapped open.
He was back in the village, his body drenched in sweat, his chest heaving. He could feel the tremors in his limbs, the ache in his muscles.
But more than that, he could feel the weight of years pressing down on his mind. Decades spent trapped in that nightmare loop, his thoughts aged and sharpened by constant struggle.
"What the hell…" Lucio breathed, his eyes wide.
"You were out for hours," Kullen said, his expression strained. "But it looked like you were in pain the entire time."
Nathan's hands trembled. His body was the same as before—young, unscarred. But his mind felt… old.
Thirty years older.
Nathan's gaze flickered to the others. Their concern was evident, but their eyes held something else. Doubt. Fear.
"Veyruun…" Nathan whispered, his voice hoarse. "He made me fight Jalen. Over and over. I… lost count of how many times."
Jalen's eyes narrowed. "And you beat him?"
Nathan nodded, his head pounding. "Eventually. But… it took me a long time."
As if responding to his words, a voice—deep, resonant, and laced with disdain—slipped into his mind.
'Years of struggle. Decades wasted. And yet you cling to victory as if it means something.'
Nathan flinched, his eyes wide. He knew that voice.
"Veyruun."
'You have only proven that you are willing to waste your own existence chasing shadows. The real trial is yet to come.'
The voice faded, but the chill remained. Nathan's hands clenched into fists, his mind reeling.
He had survived. But he hadn't won.