He died choking on ash.
Not heroically. Not quietly.
Just another shattered body in a burning world—lungs clawing at the smoke, throat thick with blood. Something heavy had fallen on his chest. He couldn't move. Couldn't scream. His vision blurred, colors melting into crimson and gray.
He reached out toward someone—someone he couldn't name.
And then—
The world went white.
---
He didn't go dark.
He woke up.
---
But not in the place he'd died.
Not in a new one, either.
In nothing.
There was no air. No weight. No shape. Just an endless black void stretched beyond thought, like the universe had left this part unfinished. No body, no breath—just the echo of pain and the pounding silence of being.
Then, the glitches came.
Cracks of red light tore across the dark like fractured nerves. Symbols appeared—letters from a language he didn't know, shifting with every blink. One circle spun faster than the others, pulsing.
[REBOOT ERROR // REBIRTH PROTOCOL INITIALIZING]
A voice, not spoken but imposed, filled his skull:
> "Subject integrity: compromised."
"Consent required. Do you wish to continue?"
He tried to speak. Failed. There was no mouth. Only thought.
He didn't know what was happening.
He didn't know who he was.
But something in him—whatever part had survived—burned.
Yes.
[REBIRTH PROTOCOL ACCEPTED]
[TERMS OF CONTRACT BOUND]
The symbols ignited into rings, orbiting him like molten chains. The voice returned, colder now:
> "One Life, One Loop."
Each death diverts the path. There is no reset—only redirection.
"One Sin, One Fragment."
Seven Witches rule the Nexus. Their fragments unlock the Archive.
"One Reset, One Loss."
Each resurrection takes something: memory, power, or self.
Then came the pain.
It didn't burn. It reconstructed.
Bones twisted into place. Flesh regenerated from light and wire. Muscles locked and stretched. Something foreign locked into his spine, glowing faintly as it fused with him.
He screamed silently.
And fell.
---
He hit stone.
Hard.
Air punched into his lungs. He coughed until his ribs ached. The world snapped into focus—color, weight, sound—everything too sharp, too real.
A cold alley. Cracked stone beneath him. Violet clouds overhead, pulsing with red lightning like open veins. The air tasted like rust and frost.
He staggered to his feet, legs shaky. A cracked shard of glass on the ground reflected him back—dark, shoulder-length hair. Gray eyes like static. Sharp jaw, pale skin. A scar near his collarbone he didn't remember getting. He looked like someone who'd died more than once.
His hands shook as he sat up.
No wounds.
But no memory.
He didn't know where he was.
Didn't know his name.
But something told him: this wasn't the first time.
Then came the ping.
A soft DING, like metal tapping glass. And in front of him, words bloomed in midair, glowing silver.
[REBOOT SUCCESSFUL]
[WELCOME TO DOMAIN: ORIGIN]
The air smelled faintly of ozone and ash. High above, mechanical halos rotated in the clouds—runic satellites etched with spiraling text. The city wasn't alive. It was... rebooting.
[S.I.N. FRAGMENT: UNCLAIMED]
[REBIRTH PROTOCOL V0.1]
[GLITCH DETECTED]
He stared.
Then a final message appeared.
> "Begin. Or die again."
Kairo—though he didn't remember the name yet—stood in silence.
And somewhere behind his eyes, a voice whispered:
"You've done this before."
He didn't know whether to be afraid.
Or angry.
So he did what felt most familiar.
He moved forward.