The door creaked open, leading to the execution plaza. One by one, the condemned passed through, chained at the wrists, their heads low. The guards barked orders behind them, keeping the line moving. As they stepped outside, the golden, sunlike light spilled across their bodies.
Just like before, they were led to the large execution platform in the heart of a bustling plaza. Around them, the town was alive with noise and color. Vendors shouted over one another, women sang or danced for coin, and performers displayed their talents. All of it unfolded in the shadow of the guillotine, using the spectacle of death as a backdrop to promote themselves.
The condemned acted as they had in the first loop, with only minimal differences. But even in his shattered state, Zad noticed something new, How vast this town truly was. It was enormous, far larger than he had first assumed. Rows upon rows of homes stretched outward, many decorated with yellow cloth, palm trees, and carefully arranged greenery swaying in the breeze. The houses were crafted with care, full of color and life, as if untouched by the cruelty of the execution they surrounded.
Beyond the town, towering walls circled the edges of it, massive stone barriers that stood firm and imposing. Zad couldn't tell if they were meant to keep people out... or to keep them trapped inside. Either way, they loomed like silent guards over the whole town.
Yet that was the strange part, There weren't many guards at all. Only two stood near the execution platform, barely enough to organize the event. For a place that held public executions and attracted crowds, the lack of military presence was unsettling.
Then he remembered. One of the guards had mentioned something about a war. Maybe that explained it. Maybe the rest had been sent to fight somewhere far from here.
He glanced back at the building he had just exited. Judging by the architecture, it must have been a guard tower. Likely one with a prison inside. It made sense.
Despite the madness at its center, the town was full of joy. Alive. Loud. Celebratory.
And yet, at its heart stood the execution platform, cursed and heavy with history. The blade gleamed beneath the sunlight. That was the main attraction. That was what drew everyone here.
Zad tried to shake his chains in a desperate attempt to resist, but the metal only clinked and rattled. They held firm. He was still bound. Still tied to this fate.
He remembered what the Witch had said. About how their destinies were linked to the guillotine. About how even if they managed to escape, they will still lose years of their lives.
But none of that mattered now. The trauma from his last death still clung to him like smoke. It had broken something deep inside. The world continued as it had before. The loop reset. Life resumed.
The only part of him that still worked was a quiet instinct. Something deep and mechanical. A distant willpower recording details, trying to memorize everything. Just in case. Just in case he still had something left to fight with.
The executioner stepped forward. A tall man in dull red armor. Helmet shadowing his eyes. Face unreadable.
His voice was cold and flat. Same as before.
"We will begin from the first in line and move in order." He looked at a scroll. "The circus performer."
A man stepped forward, smiling wide. Despite the chains, he bowed theatrically.
"Ah, my turn already? What a shame. After all," he grinned, "I'm the greatest clown in all of Agrabiyya."
The same clown moved, still wearing that certain look on his face. The exact same expression as before. That kind of certainty had to mean something... right?
"Isn't that the clown who abducted children?" someone in the crowd shouted. "The one who killed them for fun?"
"The infamous child-killer… it's him?"
The crowd roared with rage.
"If he's the first to die, imagine how filthy the rest are!"
Fruit and stones flew through the air. The clown gave a mocking bow.
"My reputation precedes me."
"Tch. Disgusting freak," muttered the Witch beside Zad, her voice low and seething.
The same event kept looping without end.
"Put your head on the block," the executioner said, unmoved. "Your time's up, clown."
"Fine, fine," the clown chuckled. "Things are over for me anyway. I had my fun."
He knelt.
Placed his head on the wooden slab. The rusted blade hovered above him.
This time, the Witch wasn't speaking to Zad, probably because he had told her to shut up. It was the only change in this loop.
The clown whispered to the slab:
"Ah, my beautiful children. I'm coming to you now."
"We'll be together again," the clown whispered. "In heaven…"
"Oh, how I love—"
SLICE.
The blade dropped. Blood sprayed. A painted head fell.
"AAAAAAAAAH!" Amal screamed, turning away.
The crowd howled with joy.
Next!" the jailer called without waiting.
From the crowd, a child said, excited, "This is my first time seeing a real execution..."
Again... he saw it.The very same thing.
A pigeon.
Flying overhead. Right where the Clown's head had landed.
"Huh..."