The first time it happened, Lin thought it was a dream.
The sky overhead was violet-gray, clouds trembling like static. A narrow field of withered grass stretched toward a hill. And there—always there—stood the church. Small. Burnt-brick bones. The stained glass above its wooden doors shattered long ago, but the frame still held.
In front of it, she stood.
Hair loose in the wind. Unmoving.
Tang Yuyan.
But she didn't turn around.
Not yet.
⸻
The second time, Lin remembered.
He remembered this dream before it even started. The angle of the breeze. The exact tilt of the broken steeple. Even the cold.
She stood the same way. Silent. Barefoot on broken stones.
He moved closer. "Yuyan—"
She flinched. Slowly, she turned. Eyes dark, searching.
"You didn't come last time," she said.
Her voice wasn't accusatory.
It was resigned.
Lin opened his mouth, but something shifted—the horizon flickered like a skipped frame.
And then:
Darkness.
Reset.
⸻
Loop 1.2
Same field. Same ash-colored light.
But this time, Yuyan's dress was blue.
Lin ran toward her.
She turned before he could speak. "You didn't come last time," she whispered again. Same cadence. But now, a tear stained her cheek.
"I'm here now," Lin said. "I—I didn't know—"
"You knew," she replied.
This time, the sky cracked like glass.
And everything dissolved into static.
⸻
Loop 1.3
Lin began tracking the changes.
Small details. The wind now blew from the opposite side. The church door creaked. Her shadow stretched toward him, not away.
Every time, her first words were the same.
"You didn't come last time."
Every time, Lin tried to speak sooner, to move faster, to say more.
And every time, she vanished, and the world snapped back.
⸻
Loop 1.4
He tried something different.
He reached her. Touched her arm.
She didn't flinch. Instead, she stared up at the church.
"I waited inside. For hours."
Her voice was hollow.
"You never came. And when they took me…" She paused. "I thought maybe I'd imagined you."
Lin's chest tightened.
"I'm here now," he said. "Let me fix this."
He reached for her hand.
This time, she didn't pull away.
He stepped toward the church door with her—
—and then the wind froze. Time cracked.
A new voice, not hers, echoed through the space like a failing speaker:
"Loop tampering detected."
"You can't change what you chose to forget."
And everything went black.
⸻
Loop 2.0
Lin awoke gasping.
Except he hadn't really woken.
He stood once again in the field—but now it was night. The church glowed faintly, illuminated by moonlight. Yuyan was seated on the steps, knees drawn to her chest.
She looked younger.
Like the version of her he'd first interviewed, before the Ledger took her.
"I remember this," he whispered.
She didn't look up.
"Did you know," she murmured, "they made me forget my real name three times?"
Lin sat beside her. His breath fogged the air.
"I remember your name," he said.
She turned, slow and sad. "No. You only remember the name they gave me. Not the one I whispered to you before they wiped me clean."
He reached out. "Tell me again."
Before she could, the scene froze.
"Subject is attempting override of sealed memory sector."
"Administrative privileges revoked."
Then she looked up at him—not as a memory.
But as something else.
As someone watching back.
"Lin," she said. "You're not supposed to be here yet."
Then the entire dream collapsed.
⸻
Loop 3.1 — Divergence
He began trying everything.
Staying still. Yelling. Rushing the church.
Nothing worked.
But each time, the detail changed slightly.
In one version, Yuyan was bleeding.
In another, the door was open—and screams echoed inside.
In one, she reached for him.
In another, she walked into the church and never came back out.
Each time, he was too late.
Each time, she repeated:
"You didn't come last time."
And then—
Silence.
Loop reset.
⸻
Loop 3.6 — Attempted Substitution
This time, he moved before the dream fully loaded.
He sprinted.
He forced his way into the church before she could speak.
Inside—rows of pews. Bloodstains like vines across the walls. Cameras behind two-way mirrors. A single console blinking red:
SUBJECT: TANG YUYAN
CONDITION: OBSERVATION – CYCLE: 13,210
STATUS: PARTIAL MEMORY RECLAMATION
RISK: EMOTIONAL REVERSION
And beside it—a version of himself.
Slumped in a chair.
Eyes blank. Skin pale.
Not dead. But unplugged.
As if waiting to be rebooted.
Lin stared in horror.
Had he been here all along?
Was this what he was replacing?
A voice again. This time female. Soft, but accusing.
"You didn't come. You sent someone else."
He turned.
Yuyan stood behind him. No longer fragile. She wore a gray hospital gown, hair damp with sweat.
"You left me inside the loop," she said. "You moved on. But you left me behind."
"I didn't know how," he said.
"You chose not to remember," she whispered. "So they let you live."
Lin took a trembling step forward. "Let me bring you out."
He reached for the console.
Her eyes went wide. "Don't—"
But it was too late.
He pressed the button.
⸻
System Response:
"Unauthorized loop termination."
"Judgment token burned."
"Subject: Tang Yuyan — status destabilized."
The lights exploded into red.
The floor disintegrated.
Lin screamed—
⸻
Loop 4.0
He stood in the field again.
Yuyan stood before the church again.
But this time, she turned first.
And her voice was different.
"You're starting to remember," she said softly. "That's why it hurts more each time."
He took a step toward her.
She raised her hand.
"Not yet," she said. "You'll only get one more try."
Then the world bent around him, light folding like origami.
And the loop restarted again.
⸻
To be continued.