Chapter 43: Time loop

CG Derek’s sword crashed against Red Rose’s ruby cane at the edge of the skyscraper rooftop, sparks bursting like dying stars. The night wind howled between them, city lights far below flickering like they already knew what was coming.

Red Rose leaned in, that carved grin unmoving, ruby glowing brighter than ever.

“You’re persistent,” he said calmly. “I admire that.”

Derek snarled, pushing harder. “I’m ending this. Tonight.”

The sword struck the ruby dead center.

The sound wasn’t metal on gemstone.

It was reality breaking.

A shrill, impossible screech tore through the air—like glass, alarms, and a scream all fused into one. The sky fractured. The city blurred. Colors inverted. Derek’s vision stretched, folded, and—

Derek bolted upright in bed, gasping.

His room.

Dark. Quiet. Normal.

His chest heaved as if he’d been drowning. He stared at his hands, flexing his fingers, checking for blood, for burns, for anything. Nothing. No injuries. No sword. No rooftop. No Red Rose.

“What…?” he whispered.

His alarm clock blinked 6:00 AM.

A cold chill crept down his spine.

He swung his legs off the bed, standing slowly. Everything was familiar—too familiar. Posters. Desk. Chair. Window. The exact same placement. The exact same stillness.

Then he noticed it.

His journal lay open on the desk.

That was wrong. He never left it open.

Derek approached cautiously, like the book might bite him. The handwriting inside was his—but sharper. More frantic. Pages filled with diagrams, timelines, symbols, names circled and crossed out again and again.

At the top of the page, written in bold, aggressive strokes:

IF YOU’RE READING THIS, THE LOOP HAS RESET.

Derek’s breath caught.

He flipped the page.

You don’t remember yet. That’s normal.

I’m you. The version that figured it out too late.

His heart began to pound.

Another page.

You and Red Rose are trapped in a temporal recursion. Every time your sword clashes with his ruby, the loop resets to this morning.

Derek staggered back, bumping into his bed.

“No… no, that’s not possible,” he muttered.

The pages didn’t stop.

You’ve fought him hundreds of times.

Different tactics. Different routes. Same ending.

You always clash. The ruby always activates. The world resets.

His hands trembled as he turned the page.

Two names stared back at him, written like a death sentence.

RED ROSE = LUCAS VALE

LADY VENOM = ELENA VALE

Derek’s vision blurred.

“Elena…?” he whispered.

The memories tried to surface—fights, conversations, moments that suddenly felt wrong in hindsight. The way Lady Venom hesitated. The way Red Rose spoke like he knew Derek personally.

The journal continued, merciless.

Lucas Vale built the loop.

Not to win.

To make sure neither of you ever truly loses.

Derek slammed the journal shut, breathing hard.

“So what,” he snapped at the empty room, “we’re just stuck? Forever?”

The journal lay still.

Then, slowly, a page flipped on its own.

No.

Derek froze.

There is a way out.

But you won’t like it.

His throat tightened.

Another page.

The loop requires two anchors.

You.

And him.

The words dug into him.

As long as both of you exist, time will rewind to protect the paradox.

Derek’s jaw clenched. “Then we stop fighting. We avoid the clash.”

The next line felt almost gentle.

Tried that.

He always forces it.

And when you hesitate, people die.

Silence filled the room.

The final pages were shakier, like they’d been written with a dying hand.

There is only one way to end it.

Both anchors must be removed at the same moment.

Derek’s breath hitched.

You have to die.

With him.

His knees gave out. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, the weight of it crushing him.

“So that’s it,” he whispered hoarsely. “That’s the answer?”

The last page.

You won’t remember writing this.

But I remember choosing it.

If you don’t do it, the world will burn over and over again.

If you do… it finally moves forward.

At the bottom, a single sentence, underlined three times:

DON’T CLASH THE SWORD. END IT ANOTHER WAY.

Derek closed the journal slowly.

Outside, the city woke up—cars passing, distant voices, life continuing completely unaware that it had already ended countless times.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror. Same face. Same scars. Different burden.

Lucas Vale.

Elena Vale.

Red Rose.

Lady Venom.

And him.

CG Derek picked up the journal, gripping it tight.

“…Guess I don’t get a happy ending,” he said quietly, a sad, crooked smile forming. “But at least it’ll be the last one.”

Somewhere far away, a ruby glowed.

And time waited.

To be continued.