Night of Day 1 — Haiwan General Hospital. Duc sat on a plastic chair in the third-floor corridor, back against the wall, steel rod balanced across his thighs. Beyond the window, the night sky was sliced by crimson fissures — they hadn't disappeared with the sunset. Just shifted from blazing red to deep arterial crimson, like clotted veins against black. Distant growling echoed across the city — F-Class creatures hunting in the streets. Occasionally, a scream would tear through the darkness, then cut short. He didn't move. *Day 1 is always the least deadly. F-Class are weak, slow, easy to avoid if you stay indoors. Day 2 is the real hell — E-Class appear. They know how to break doors. They know how to climb.* He closed his eyes, rewinding Loop 98's memory. Day 2, 6:00 AM: E-Class emerged near the harbor district. Bull-sized, six-legged, heads shaped like axe blades. Not fast, but their physical strength was devastating — one charge could smash through a steel warehouse door. Day 2, 2:00 PM: More Awakened appeared. Ordinary people — factory workers, college students, housewives — suddenly seeing Status Panels before their eyes. Most panicked. A rare few stayed calm, began testing their Skills. Day 3: Vy Le Awakened. He opened his eyes. *Thirty hours left.* --- Light footsteps. Vy walked down the corridor, carrying two cups of instant coffee — the cheap kind from the nurses' break room. "You haven't slept." "Can't." She sat beside him, offered a cup. He took it but didn't drink. "How's everyone inside?" he asked. "Patients are scared but stable. Dr. Hoang's keeping order. Nurse Lan is distributing the cafeteria food." She paused. "But there's not much. Enough for one, maybe two days." "Two days will be enough." "Enough for what?" He looked at her. In the dim red light from the window, her face was half-lit — one side bright, one side shadow. Her eyes, tired but alert. "Duc. You owe me an explanation." "I know." "You knew about the truck. You knew the sky would break. You knew what those monsters were and how to kill them." She set her coffee down on the floor, turning her body to face him squarely. "Who are you?" Silence. Five seconds. Ten. He knew — if he told the truth, she'd think he was insane. In Loop 43, he'd tried telling someone. That person hadn't believed him, walked away, died on Day 4. But this was Vy. She wasn't like other people. "Do you believe in time loops?" She frowned. "Like Groundhog Day?" "Like real." Silence. "You're saying — you've lived through this more than once?" "Ninety-eight times." She didn't react immediately. Didn't laugh, didn't say "you're crazy," didn't stand up and leave. She just sat there, looking at him, blinking slowly. "Ninety-eight..." She repeated the number, tasting each digit. "So you remember everything? Every loop?" "Every day. Every person. Every death." "Including mine?" That question — soft, quiet — hit him like a blade twisting between his ribs. He looked down at the coffee cup in his hands. The dark surface reflected the red light from the window. "Seventeen times." "Seventeen times what?" "You died. I watched you die seventeen times." Silence. Long. Heavy. Vy drew a deep breath — it shook, but she controlled it. Her hand gripped the hem of her blouse, knuckles whitening. "So today... the truck..." "You died there in Loop 12. And 37. And in 73, I was three minutes late." "This time you came early." "This time I didn't let myself be late." She looked at him — long, deep. Her eyes were wet, but she didn't cry. Her hand released the fabric, settled gently on his forearm. "How long... how long have you been living like this?" "Six hundred and eighty-six days. In real time." "Almost two years." "But everyone else only lives seven days. Then they forget." She withdrew her hand, hugged her knees. The two of them sat in the dark corridor, the sound of monsters growling somewhere far away. "How are you still sane?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper. "Two years of dying and resetting... most people would've broken." He looked down at his left hand. There was a faint scar — from Loop 56, when he'd cut himself to check whether he could still feel pain. "I'm not sure I am." She went quiet. "The System calls it 'Humanity Erosion.' The longer you survive, the stronger you get, but the more you lose — emotions, personal memories, the ability to connect with other people. I've lost 31%." "What does that mean?" "It means I can't feel afraid of dying anymore. I don't feel sad when strangers die in front of me. I can't remember the faces of people I fought beside in old loops." He paused. "But I remember you. Clearer than anything else." She looked up, eyes glistening. "Why?" *Why? He didn't know. Thirty-one percent erosion should have erased all personal memories. She should be nothing but a name, a data point in the System.* But he remembered. Remembered her smile from Loop 73 — when she bandaged a child's wound, a smile so warm it made him forget the smell of blood around them. Remembered her voice from Loop 81 — when she hummed to a dying patient, a wordless lullaby, but he'd heard every note. "I don't know. I just do." She smiled — soft, sad, but real. That smile, he realized, was the only reason he still believed he was human. --- Day 2. 6:12 AM. A seismic tremor jolted the entire hospital awake. Duc was on his feet instantly — reflex, no thought required. He reached the window, looked out. The hospital parking lot — cracked open. The concrete split apart, and from beneath it, four creatures hauled themselves up. Bull-sized, six-legged, heads shaped like axe blades. Skin black, eyes red, mouths lined with fangs. *They tunnel. In previous loops, E-Class always came from the ground, not from the sky cracks.* He activated System Analysis. --- **[E-Class Monster — Axe Beast]** HP: 280/280 Weakness: Third leg joint (easily broken), Eyes (sensitive to bright light) Speed: Slow Attack: Charge (high physical damage), Tail Sweep (area damage) Special: Destroys obstacles (walls, doors, vehicles) --- *Third leg joint. Eyes sensitive to light.* "Vy!" She was already awake — standing at the end of the corridor, face pale, staring through the window. "What... what are those?" "E-Class. Five times stronger than yesterday." He spoke fast, clipped. "Get flashlights. Every flashlight in the hospital. And fire extinguishers." "Flashlights?" "Their eyes are light-sensitive. Direct beam will drive them back." She didn't question him. Turned, sprinted inside. Duc watched the four Axe Beasts. They were demolishing cars in the parking lot — charging, flipping, crushing. The sound of metal bending, glass popping, car alarms shrieking. *Twenty minutes. They'll breach the front entrance in twenty minutes.* He needed a plan. Not to kill them — with a steel rod and human strength, killing E-Class was nearly impossible. A plan to survive Day 2. *Bright light. Fire extinguishers create smoke plus powder. Stairwells are narrow — E-Class are too big to climb.* "Everyone to the fourth floor! Right now!" His voice carried across the third floor. Patients, nurses, doctors — all of them trembling, but they listened. After last night, after watching him kill a monster in front of them, they listened. Vy returned, arms loaded with three flashlights and two fire extinguishers. She'd rallied four additional nurses — each carrying makeshift weapons: a surgical blade, an IV stand, a folding chair. "Improvised arms." He looked at her. In the middle of chaos, she'd organized a defensive squad. *That's her. Always her.* "Good. Fourth floor, block the stairs. Shine light at anything that tries to climb." "What about you?" "I'll stay." "Duc—" "I know what I'm doing." She looked at him — three beats. Then nodded, turned, led everyone up. Duc stood alone on the third floor. Steel rod in hand. Watching the window. The four Axe Beasts had finished with the parking lot. They turned toward the hospital — toward the large glass doors on the ground floor. One charged. The glass doors exploded inward, shards spraying across the lobby. The roar echoed through every floor. They were inside. He heard claws scraping tile. Growling. Things being smashed. *Ground floor. Coming up the stairs.* He retreated to the top of the third-floor stairwell. Below, a dark shape moved — massive, slow, heavy. The first Axe Beast's blade-shaped head appeared at the base of the stairs. Red eyes scanned upward. He raised the flashlight. Click. White light lanced into the creature's eyes. It howled — a piercing, agonized sound — and jerked its head away, retreating one step. But it didn't run. *Only retreating. Not strong enough.* He needed something more powerful. And he knew it was coming — tomorrow morning, Day 3. When the System distributed Skills to new Awakened. *Vy. Tomorrow she'll Awaken.* But right now, he had to survive the night. The Axe Beast growled, tried again — its blade-head slammed into the stairwell wall, concrete crumbling. But the stairwell was narrow — the creature's body was too wide to fit through. *Exactly as calculated.* He exhaled — shallow, quiet. Held the rod ready, standing guard at the top of the stairs. All night. --- Day 3. 5:41 AM. The four Axe Beasts left at 4:00 — when they couldn't breach the stairwell, they withdrew to find easier prey. Duc collapsed to the floor. Exhausted — body tired, mind tired. Forty-eight hours without sleep, an unhealed wound, and the crushing weight of ninety-eight loops of memory grinding against the walls of his skull. *Humanity Erosion — 32%.* Up one percent. In two days. *Faster than expected.* He closed his eyes, pressed his forehead against the cold steel rod. Then — footsteps. Vy ran down the stairs, breathing hard. "Duc!" He opened his eyes. "What is it?" She stood in front of him, eyes wide — but not afraid. Astonished. "I... I see something." "What?" "Text. Floating in front of my eyes. It has my name, and..." She raised her hand — her palm glowed with soft blue light, gentle as moonlight. "...and my hand is glowing." Duc stood. His heart — the 69% of humanity that remained — hammered. *She's Awakened.* He activated System Analysis, looking at her. --- **[Awakened — Vy Le]** Level: 1 Primary Skill: [Heal] — Lv.1 Hidden Skill: [???] — *Locked. Activation conditions not met.* Humanity Erosion: 0% --- *Hidden Skill.* He stared at that line — question marks, locked, conditions unmet. In ninety-eight previous loops, this hidden Skill had never appeared on her panel. Because she always died before it could activate. *[Recall].* He knew the Skill — not from seeing it, but from what someone told him in Loop 94: "If anyone possesses [Recall], everything changes." That person died before explaining what "changes" meant. But now he understood. [Recall] — the ability to restore memories for other Awakened, to reverse Humanity Erosion. *She can save everyone.* "Duc?" Vy looked at him, her glowing hand trembling. "Am I... an Awakened?" He looked at her — at the worried dark eyes, at the soft blue light pulsing from her palm, at the face of the only person he couldn't forget. "Yes. And you're more important than you realize." "Important how?" He opened his mouth — but stopped. Because outside the window, the sky had just cracked again. A new fissure — larger than any before — tore across the sky from east to west. And from that fissure, a roar descended — not the growl of F-Class or the bellow of E-Class. Something bigger. Something stronger. Something far more terrifying. D-Class. Two days ahead of schedule compared to Loop 98. Duc gripped the steel rod, eyes narrowing. *Loop 99 is different. Everything is changing.* *And he wasn't sure he was ready.*