Riven Solas woke to the smell of rain—sharp, metallic, and impossibly fresh. The ruins of the lab were gone. In their place stood streets he recognized, yet everything was subtly wrong: the neon lights flickered in a rhythm that seemed to pulse with his heartbeat, and the sun above hung slightly too low, casting elongated shadows that stretched unnaturally across the city.
He sat up on the cracked sidewalk, his wrist aching from the neural band still fused to his skin. The holo-feed blinked erratically:
CYCLE 03 — SUBJECT: SOLAS, RIVEN
A shiver ran down his spine. Three cycles. Forty-seven attempts. And yet here he was, the world reborn around him, as if mocking him for his failures.
A soft sound drew his attention: footsteps, careful and deliberate. Riven turned, heart hammering, and froze.
Standing a few meters away was Lira. Her hair was longer, her eyes sharper, but it was her expression that froze him—a mixture of fear, calculation, and something else he couldn't place. She looked… familiar, yet foreign.
"Riven," she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper, "you shouldn't be here."
"I… I thought you—" His voice cracked. "I thought you were dead."
She shook her head slowly. "You think you know the truth, but you've already been lied to. And you don't even remember it yet."
Riven's stomach churned. "What are you talking about? How are you…?"
Before Lira could answer, a loud explosion tore through the street behind them. The sky tore open in a jagged rift of crimson and blue light—the second sun, rising in agony. People screamed in the distance, running, vanishing into the fractures that had appeared out of nowhere.
Riven grabbed Lira's arm. "We need to move!"
She hesitated, then nodded. As they ran, the city warped around them. Buildings bent, twisted, then shattered into digital fragments that dissolved like smoke. Riven's mind raced. Each cycle had left subtle changes, but this… this was different.
Finally, they reached a narrow alley, hidden by shadows. Lira leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. Her eyes met his, cold and unrecognizable.
"You've done this before," she said. "More times than you realize. And every time, the city dies a little faster, people vanish a little sooner, and you forget it all when the cycle resets."
Riven's hands shook. "I—I remember some of it. I've seen… them. The double."
Lira's lips pressed into a thin line. "Yes. But the double is not the real threat. Someone—or something—is orchestrating all of this. They've been guiding your loops, watching you fail. They want you broken before you can fix it."
Riven's rage flared, sharp and raw. "Who? Who would do this to me?"
Lira looked away. "I can't tell you… not yet. But every second you hesitate, the world dies again. And this time, I don't know if even I can save you."
A sudden vibration from Riven's wrist interrupted them. The neural band blinked red. A message scrolled across the display:
WARNING — TEMPORAL COLLISION DETECTEDUNKNOWN ENTITY IN PROXIMITY
Riven felt a cold shiver crawl down his spine. "What… what does that mean?"
Lira's expression hardened. "It means you're not alone. Whoever is pulling the strings is close. And they're already inside this cycle. You'll have to fight… but you won't be ready. Not yet."
Before Riven could respond, the shadows behind them twisted violently. A shape emerged—humanoid, but fragmented, almost transparent. Its eyes glowed the same crimson and blue as the second sun above.
Riven's breath caught. "Another double?"
Lira shook her head, her hand gripping his. "Worse. Something older. Something that remembers all your failures."
The figure stepped forward, and the air around them snapped like static. Riven felt memories surge uncontrollably—each cycle's pain, each loop's betrayal—burning through his mind like fire.
And then the figure spoke, its voice a distorted echo of his own:
"Cycle forty-eight, Solas. Are you finally ready to understand who you really are?"
Riven's vision blurred. Rage, despair, and confusion collided inside him. He looked at Lira, who was silent now, her eyes reflecting both fear and sorrow.
Somewhere deep in his chest, he felt it—a spark, a reminder that despite every death, every cycle, and every betrayal, he was still alive.
And that spark… was all he had to fight back.