Francis couldn't believe he had been in the north for almost a month now. It was the longest he'd ever been alive since his first one, and he was beginning to remember what it was like to truly live. He found himself smiling as he worked the metal in Tormund's forge, the rhythmic strike of his hammer against heated steel creating a melody that felt almost meditative. The blade he was shaping wasn't perfect, far from it, but it was his work, and there was satisfaction in that.

  His eyes were focused upon the glowing piece of metal he held in one hand against the anvil. Francis could see where he needed to strike next. As his hammer came down, the world went dark.

  The sound of the morning bell rang.

  Francis bolted upright in surprise, his heart hammering in his chest as the forge vanished and he found himself staring at the familiar wooden ceiling of the barracks.

  "What the fuck!" he exclaimed, glancing around the room in disbelief.

  "Yeah, it's earlier than usual," Michael grunted as he sat up in the bed next to him. "Not sure that it deserves—"

  Francis was on his feet before his brother could finish, spinning around and then lunging forward to grab Michael by the shoulders.

  "Hey!" Michael exclaimed, his eyes widening. "What are you... How are you—"

  "You're real... It's not a dream," Francis muttered, his hands tightening on his brother's shoulders as if he might disappear at any moment.

  "No... or maybe," his brother replied, confusion clear in his voice. "When the fuck did you get so big? How can I—"

  Francis let go of Michael, his mind swimming with questions that had no immediate answers. A month. He'd been alive for a month, learning, growing, finding something that resembled peace. And now he was back here, at the beginning, with no warning, no death, no explanation.

  "Hey," Michael called out, waving a hand before Francis's face. "You there? What is—"

  "I don't have time for this," Francis said, his voice more gruff than he had intended. "I need... I need to go. I promise I'll make it up to you, but for now..."

  The confused look on Michael's face tugged at all the emotions Francis had been feeling during his time in Tules. The peace, the sense of belonging, the friendships he'd been building with warriors like Glitvall and Kerhi, the wisdom Tormund had shared. All of it was gone now, ripped away without warning. Unable to help it, he wrapped his arms around his brother and hugged him tight.

  "I love you," Francis whispered.

  "I... can't... breathe," Michael gasped.

  Letting go of his brother, Francis gave him a gentle tap on the arm, making sure not to hurt him. His strength was far beyond what Michael would remember, far beyond what anyone here would expect. "I need to go. I'll see you soon."

  He was halfway to the door when the thought struck him like a blade between the ribs.

  I didn't die. But someone did.

  Francis froze, his hand on the doorframe. A month of peace, ripped away in an instant. Not because he'd made a mistake. Not because some enemy had finally caught him. The reset had come from somewhere else, triggered by something he hadn't done.

  What if they have one too? What if they've been doing this to us the entire time?

  The implications cascaded through his mind faster than he could process them. Every battle where the enemy seemed prepared. Every ambush that caught them perfectly. Every strategy that failed before it could succeed. What if it wasn't superior tactics? What if someone on their side was learning the same way Francis did—dying, resetting, trying again until they got it right?

  With that, Francis ran, ignoring the shouts of the other teens he had trained with before he had first died.

  The familiar faces, the familiar voices, all of it felt wrong now after experiencing something different for so long.

  Phillip was in the courtyard, his usual frown upon his lips as he prepared for the morning training session.

  When Francis burst onto the grounds, the man started to speak and then froze, his eyes widening at Francis's sudden appearance.

  "I don't have time," Francis shouted. "I need to see the General! The gods have sent me!"

  Phillip called out something, but Francis didn't care. He just ran, his bare feet carrying him down a dirt road and toward the command tent he needed to reach. Each step did nothing to lessen a desperation he'd never felt before.

  ***

  Stenson sat in his chair, a worried look upon his face as Francis waited for the words the man would say. The general had listened to everything Francis had told him, from the month spent in Tules to the sudden return without dying. There had been no warning and no explanation for why the loop had reset.

  "You're certain you didn't die?" Stenson asked, his voice careful and measured.

  "Not unless someone like Glitvall came up from behind and destroyed my head before I could register it," Francis said. He knew how absurd it sounded, but it was the only explanation that made any sense. "I was working metal in the forge one moment, and the next I was waking up here. No pain, no warning, nothing."

  Stenson leaned back in his chair, his hand coming up to stroke his chin. "A month. That's far longer than any of your previous loops. We discussed the possibility that there might be a time limit, but we never thought it would be measured in weeks rather than days or hours."

  "I didn't either," Francis admitted. "I was starting to think... I was starting to hope that maybe the loop had stopped. That I could just live and not worry about dying and resetting."

  The general nodded slowly, his expression sympathetic but troubled. "We need to consider what this means. If there's a time limit to how long you can stay alive, then—"

  He stopped mid-sentence, and the older man’s face went white. The color drained from his features so quickly that Francis felt a spike of alarm shoot through his chest.

  "What?" Francis asked. "What is it?"

  "What if they have another—"

  "Like me on their side," Francis finished, his voice hollow. "I know. I thought the same thing on my way here."

  Stenson's eyes widened. "You've already considered it?"

  "It's the only thing that makes sense." Francis forced himself to sit, though every muscle in his body wanted to pace. "I didn't die, General. But someone did. Someone with the same ability, somewhere else, and when they reset, so did I."

  Francis could see the fear of that idea settling on the man like someone had dropped a Rhinokin on him. The general's hand trembled as he reached for the cup of water on his table. It was the first sign Francis had ever seen of the man looking truly scared.

  "Think about it," Francis pressed, needing Stenson to see what he'd already pieced together. "The ambushes that always catch us at the worst moment. The way their forces are positioned exactly where they need to be. Every time you’d find a weakness in their formation, they've already adjusted for it by the next battle."

  "It's not superior tactics," Stenson said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's foreknowledge. They've been fighting this war the same way you have. Dying, resetting, learning." He set his cup down with a sharp crack. "We've been fighting an impossible battle from the start."

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Francis stood abruptly, pacing the small space of the tent. "But if they have a looper, why haven't they won yet? Why haven't they just kept resetting until they found the perfect strategy to destroy us completely?"

  "Perhaps they're limited in the same ways you are," Stenson suggested. "Or perhaps they're working toward a different goal. We don't know enough about how these parasites function."

  Francis stopped pacing. For dozens of loops, he and Stenson had kept his ability secret from nearly everyone. A handful of people knew. They were his trusted allies who had proven themselves across multiple timelines. But the King and Queen had been kept in the dark for most of this, told only what they needed to know, never the whole truth of what Francis was or what he could do.

  This has to change.

  "We need to tell them," Francis said. "Baxter and Auri. Everything. Not the half-truths we've given them before, but the complete picture. If we're facing an enemy who can reset like I can, we can't afford to have our own leadership operating blind."

  Stenson studied him for a long moment. "You're certain? Once they know, there's no taking it back. Every loop, you'll have to decide whether to tell them again or let them forget."

  "I know." Francis met the general's gaze. "But right now, I need people who can think about this problem with me. People with resources and knowledge I don't have. We've been playing this close to the chest, and maybe that was the right call when I was just trying to survive. But this is bigger than survival now. If there's an enemy looper out there, we're in a war that neither side can win unless one of us stops resetting permanently."

  Stenson nodded slowly, then called for a runner. Within minutes, the orders were sent, and Francis found himself waiting once again, his mind churning through possibilities and implications that grew more disturbing the longer he considered them.

  ***

  King Baxter and Queen Auri arrived together, their expressions guarded as they took seats across from Francis and Stenson. The king's presence filled the tent the way it always did, commanding without effort, while the queen's sharp eyes moved between Francis and the general, already sensing something significant.

  "Stenson's message said this was urgent," Baxter said. "That you had information that couldn't wait."

  Francis glanced at Stenson, who gave him a slight nod. This was his story to tell.

  "What I'm about to say will sound impossible," Francis began. "But I need you to hear all of it before you decide whether to believe me."

  He told them everything. The parasite he'd absorbed in the south. The ability to reset time upon death. The thousands of loops he'd lived through, dying and coming back, learning and growing stronger with each death. He told them about the month he'd just spent in Tules, living and training with the northern warriors, only to wake up this morning back in the barracks with no death to explain it.

  When he finished, silence hung in the tent like smoke after a fire.

  Baxter's face was unreadable, the expression of a king who had learned long ago not to show his thoughts. But Auri leaned forward, her eyes sharp with skepticism.

  "You're claiming you can die and return to a fixed point in time," she said slowly. "With all your memories intact. All your skills preserved."

  "Yes."

  "And you expect us to believe this?"

  Francis had expected this. He turned to meet Baxter's gaze directly. "In one of my early loops, you and I had a private conversation. You told me that, unlike my family, the royal line doesn't allow more than three son. Sometimes only two, if the test to become king was difficult enough. You said it was because each son creates stress and potential problems as the desire for the throne grows."

  Baxter's eyes narrowed, but Francis continued.

  "You told me the rumors about royal brothers killing each other aren't rumors at all. That you killed your brother when he tried to take what was yours by birth. You said you never had conversations with him like I have with Michael, that you learned early he would be a rival, and when the day came, you didn't hesitate."

  The king's face had gone pale. Beside him, Auri's hand had found his arm.

  "You also told me," Francis said quietly, "that your wife is like a shield in battle or a blanket on a cold night. That she protects you and keeps you warm. That she's what keeps you grounded and going forward every day."

  Baxter's throat moved as he swallowed. When he spoke, his voice was rough. "I have never spoken those words to anyone but her."

  "You spoke them to me," Francis said. "In a timeline that no longer exists. We sat together after a war council, and you let your guard down because I asked for nothing but honest conversation. I've carried those words through hundreds of deaths since."

  The king and queen exchanged a long look, the kind that spoke of years of partnership and unspoken communication. When Baxter turned back to Francis, something had shifted in his expression. Not quite belief, but the willingness to consider the impossible.

  "A month," Auri said finally, her voice unsteady but her analytical mind already working through the implications. "That's a significant amount of time. Far longer than any previous loop you've described."

  "That's a significant amount of time. Far longer than any previous loop you've experienced."

  "Which suggests there may be a limit to how long the loop can sustain itself," Baxter added. "Or perhaps the parasite has restrictions we don't understand."

  "The more pressing question," Stenson said, "is whether the enemy has their own looper. If they do, it changes everything we thought we knew about this war."

  Auri nodded slowly, her fingers tapping against the arm of her chair. "The gods can see all potential outcomes, all possible futures branching from every decision, or that was my belief. That's what the old texts say. If these parasites are fragments of divine power, or if they're connected to different gods in some way, then having multiple loopers would create a kind of... chess match. Each side resetting, adjusting, trying to outmaneuver the other."

  "But how do we win?" Francis asked, the frustration clear in his voice. "If they can reset just like I can, then how do we defeat them? What happens if we kill their entire army and the looper they possess dies? They just start over, armed with the knowledge of how we beat them."

  The silence that followed was heavy with implications none of them wanted to voice.

  "You would need to find the parasite," Auri said finally. "Identify their looper and kill them in a way that prevents the reset. However, I'm not sure if that's even possible. We don't fully understand how your ability works, let alone how to stop it permanently."

  Francis thought back to the cave, to the moment when the parasite had tried to infect him. "Last time it tried to take me as a host, we mingled blood. It entered through a wound. What if... what if killing the host isn't enough? Maybe I'll have to locate their looper and find a way to kill the parasite itself, not just the person it's inhabiting."

  "Does killing a host not cause them to reset?" Baxter asked, his brow furrowed.

  "I don't know," Francis admitted. "When I die, I reset. But what triggers it? Is it my death, or is it the parasite recognizing that its host is dying? If it's the latter, then maybe there's a way to kill both the host and the parasite simultaneously, before it can trigger the reset."

  "But if you fail," Stenson said, his voice grim, "they'll know who you are. They'll know that we have a looper as well. That knowledge alone could be catastrophic."

  "Or they might already know," Auri said quietly. All eyes turned to her, and she met their gazes with a troubled expression. "Think about it. Francis has been gone for a month in his timeline, living in the north. If the enemy has a looper and is resetting their timeline as well, surely they've sent messengers asking where the one Francis killed is. Or perhaps they know a loop is happening and they remember the reset also."

  Fear gripped Francis's heart at all the potential problems this idea was creating. If the enemy knew about him, if they understood what he could do, then every advantage he'd gained through his deaths and resets might be worthless. They could be planning around him, preparing countermeasures, setting traps specifically designed to neutralize his ability.

  "We're operating blind," Baxter said, his fist clenching on the arm of his chair. "We don't know if they have a looper. We don't know if they know about Francis. We don't know what their goals are or what they're working toward. Every assumption we make could be wrong."

  "Then we need to test it," Francis said. "We need to find out if they're resetting. Look for patterns in their behavior across multiple loops. Things that change when they shouldn't, or things that stay the same despite different circumstances."

  "And if we confirm they have a looper?" Stenson asked.

  "Then we adapt," Francis said, though he wasn't sure he believed it himself. "We find their looper. We learn how to kill them permanently. And we end this war before it can reset again."

  Auri stood, her expression unreadable. "There's another possibility we haven't discussed. What if both loopers reset simultaneously? What if your month in the north didn't end because you died or because of a time limit, but because their looper died and triggered a reset for both of you?"

  The room fell silent as they all considered that possibility. If the loops were connected, if one person's death could trigger a reset for everyone with a parasite, then the implications were staggering. It would mean that Francis wasn't just fighting to save his kingdom. He was locked in a cosmic struggle with an enemy he'd never met, both of them trapped in an endless cycle that neither could escape.

  "We need more information, but I have to believe there is a way to change the point one starts at," Baxter said finally. "They have had to change for us to be where we are; otherwise, we’d be back to the first battle we fought. Francis, I want you to continue as you have been. Train, fight, learn everything you can about the enemy. But also watch for patterns. Anything that might indicate they're resetting their timeline as well."

  "And if I find their looper?" Francis asked.

  The king's expression was grave. "Then you do whatever it takes to end them. Because if they're resetting like you are, then this war will never end. Not unless one of you stops looping permanently."

  Francis nodded, though the weight of what was being asked of him felt heavier than anything he'd carried before. It was one thing to die repeatedly, to learn, adapt, and try to save his kingdom. It was something entirely different to hunt down someone like himself.

  But if that's what it took to break the cycle, to finally win this war and save everyone he cared about, then he would do it.

  He had to.