Chapter 1: The Empire of Ashes

Kenji’s eyes snapped open, his heart pounding in his chest as if it had been trying to escape. He gasped for air, feeling the weight of disorientation crush him. Where am I? he thought, scanning the unfamiliar scene around him. Towering columns of stone rose into the sky, etched with ancient patterns that seemed both familiar and foreign. Shadows from colossal arches stretched across streets paved with smooth black stones. And above it all, the sky was a deep, unsettling shade of blue—too bright yet eerily unnatural.

He reached instinctively to his chest, where a sharp ache lingered, as if something had pierced him moments ago. There was no blood—just the ghostly memory of pain. His clothes, too, were alien: an elegant black tunic embroidered with golden threads and a cloak pinned at his shoulder by a jade brooch. The material shimmered, catching light from strange floating lanterns suspended above the streets.

Around him, people bustled—merchants bartering, children running, soldiers in armor patrolling—but there was something off about their movements. They whispered among themselves, casting curious glances his way.

And then, they began to bow.
"General Kenji," a man in armor addressed him, voice steeped in reverence. "The Senate awaits your presence."

Kenji stiffened. General? Senate? A cold shiver ran down his spine. This must be a mistake. I shouldn’t be here, he thought. But every bow, every look, told him otherwise. Somehow, in this strange, impossible world, he held a title of power—and worse, he had no memory of how or why.

As Kenji wandered down the cobblestone streets, trying to piece together fragments of his thoughts, he stumbled across an old notice pinned to a wooden post. His breath caught in his throat when he saw what it said:

“The Fall of General Kenji – Executed Today. The Empire Will Crumble to Ash.”

The words were written in bold ink, and the date matched today’s. His name stood out like a death sentence, inked for all to see. He staggered back, heart hammering in disbelief. I’m going to die here… today.

Cold fear gripped his chest, but beneath it stirred something even more unsettling: a creeping sense of familiarity. This was not the first time. Somehow, he knew—deep down—that death had found him before. But how many times? And why did the world always know?

Kenji took a step back, gripping his temples as his surroundings seemed to ripple, as if the world was only loosely held together by threads ready to snap. The whispers around him grew louder, muttered fragments of his fate already sealed.

Kenji forced himself to move, blending into the crowds. His instincts screamed at him to reach the Senate, hoping for answers before time ran out. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something that froze him in place: a man identical to himself standing at the edge of the marketplace, dressed in dark armor.

For a moment, their eyes locked. The other Kenji gave him a crooked smile—both knowing and cruel. "You can’t outrun it," the armored figure said softly. "It always ends the same way."

Kenji’s heart raced. Who—what—was he looking at? Was it a doppelgänger, or… something worse? The world around him shivered again, like pages turning in a book, too fast for him to follow. And when Kenji blinked, the figure was gone.

Determined to find answers, Kenji quickened his pace toward the grand Senate Hall at the heart of the city. The building was colossal, its marble columns stretching impossibly high, crowned by statues of mythical creatures—serpents, lions, and winged beasts.

The senators welcomed him with forced smiles, though their eyes were cold with suspicion. They know something. Kenji sensed it immediately. Whatever game was being played, he was a pawn on their board—and a disposable one at that.

The Senate began deliberations, but Kenji could feel the weight of hidden agendas pressing on him from all sides. He was not just a general. He was someone dangerous, someone marked for death by the very people who now pretended to honor him.

He moved through the throngs of people, mind racing. If he could survive tonight, maybe he could break the cycle. But before he could act, a figure emerged from the shadows. The same doppelgänger, his dark eyes gleaming beneath a sinister grin.
"You always think you can change it," the figure said. "But you won’t. You can’t."

Before Kenji could react, the other man melted back into the shadows. And that was when the soldiers attacked.

A sharp whistle cut through the air. Soldiers—once his allies—turned on him, their swords drawn. The betrayal was sudden but expected, a cruel inevitability written in fate. Kenji fought back with instinctual precision, dodging blows and disarming two attackers. But he was outnumbered.

As he twisted to evade another strike, a spear found its mark. It pierced his chest, right where the phantom pain had lingered earlier. The impact stole his breath away.

Kenji staggered, falling to his knees as the world blurred around him. His vision dimmed, the edges of reality crumbling into fragments. But just before the darkness claimed him, he heard it again: that same whisper, cold and relentless.
"This is only the beginning. You’ll wake again."

The world shattered into darkness.

Then, with a jolt, Kenji gasped awake—his body drenched in cold sweat. He looked around, heart racing, trying to make sense of his surroundings. This was not the same world.

Gone were the stone streets and marble columns. Instead, he lay beneath the vast canopy of an ancient forest, where towering trees swayed under a sky split by storms. The air smelled of wet earth and decayed leaves, and distant thunder rumbled across the horizon.

Kenji clutched his chest—the wound was still there, though no longer bleeding. He was alive. But for how long?

He sat up slowly, realizing with a grim certainty:
Every time he died, he would wake somewhere else. A different world, a different fate. And no matter where he ran, the same question haunted him: Why?

For now, the only thing that mattered was survival. And perhaps—just perhaps—finding the answers hidden within this endless cycle of life, death, and rebirth.