A sharp screeching noise echoed through the void. It wasn’t the sound of metal or
machinery, it was something more unsettling, like nails dragged across a chalkboard.
Tadashi gasped, his eyes snapping open. But there was nothing.
Just darkness.
He tried to move, but his body felt weightless, like he was floating in an endless sea of
black. The last thing he remembered was the knife stabbing into his ribs, the agonizing
burn of his own blood seeping through his fingers.
"I died... again."
A chill ran down his spine.
Then, he heard it.
SCRATCH.
The noise came again, sharper this time. Tadashi turned toward the sound; his breath
caught in his throat. A figure stood before him.
Tall. Dressed in white. Holding a piece of chalk.
The figure dragged it across a floating chalkboard, drawing a long, single stroke.
Tadashi’s stomach twisted.
"That’s attempt number one," the figure mused,
"Looks like you didn't even last a day in that world, interesting" the young man chuckles
while facing the now puzzled Tadashi.
Tadashi narrowed his eyes, trying to get a better look at the figure. A young man.
White clothes. A hollow halo floating above his head. Golden eyes gleaming with
amusement.
He didn’t have the overwhelming presence of the voice Tadashi had heard before, but
there was something off about him. Something almost... too calm.
"Who... are you?" Tadashi asked, forcing himself to stand.
The man grinned, flipping the chalk between his fingers.
"Ah, right. We should get introductions out of the way, huh?" He placed a hand over his
chest and mockingly bowed.
"Simon Mochizuki, Third-Ranked Angel. Your personal observer for this challenge."
Tadashi blinked.
"Observer?"
Simon twirled the chalk, then pointed it at the stroke on the board.
"Every time you die,
you come back here, and I mark it down. That stroke? That means you’ve failed once
already."
Tadashi’s hands curled into fists.
"So that’s it? You just sit here and count how many times I die?"
Simon smirked.
"Pretty much. But don’t take it personally. Most contestants die a lot
more than just once. You’ll get used to it."
Tadashi clenched his jaw.
"So, what is this? Some kind of sick game?"
Simon shrugged.
"Game, test, punishment, call it whatever you want. The rules are
simple: you get thrown into different worlds, and you have to survive for seven days. If
you make it past the seventh day, you win."
"Seven days…?" Tadashi’s mind raced.
That didn’t sound impossible. One week wasn’t that long, right?
"And if I die?"
Simon grinned, tapping the chalkboard.
"Then I add another stroke to the board and you
start over in a different world."
Tadashi swallowed.
"How many attempts do I get?"
Simon’s expression didn’t change.
"As many as it takes."
A cold chill settled in Tadashi’s chest.
"So I have no choice but to keep playing this game… forever?"
Simon studied him for a moment, then sighed dramatically.
"Man, you humans are so
dramatic. Think about it this way: this is a rare opportunity. You get to restart over and
over again, learning from your mistakes. Doesn’t that sound amazing?"
Tadashi glared.
"I just got stabbed to death. You think that’s amazing?"
Simon raised his hands.
"Hey, relax. You got an easy start. Some people don’t even last
five minutes in their first attempt."
Tadashi’s stomach twisted at the thought.
Tadashi turned back to the board. His name was written at the top, and beneath it, the
lone stroke stood as a permanent reminder of his failure.
His mind raced. If Simon was telling the truth, this challenge had no limit. If he kept
failing, he could be trapped forever, dying over and over, never escaping.
That thought terrified him.
"What happens if I give up?" he asked quietly.
Simon’s golden eyes darkened.
"You can’t."
Tadashi tensed.
Simon pulled the chalk from his pocket and twirled it lazily.
"This is the Chalk of
Command. It’s a divine artifact. Whatever I write with it becomes an unchangeable
truth."
Tadashi stiffened.
"Meaning?"
Simon smirked.
"Meaning if I write your name on this board and cross it out twice, you
disappear from existence. Completely. No soul, no reincarnation, nothing."
A sickening realization hit Tadashi.
"So if I fail too many times… I get erased."
Simon didn’t confirm it, but the way he twirled the chalk told Tadashi everything.
Tadashi forced himself to breathe. His hands clenched at his sides.
"So my only option is to keep trying until I win."
Simon nodded.
"That’s the spirit."
Tadashi took a slow step forward.
"Fine. But tell me this, do the worlds change every time?"
Simon grinned.
"Now you’re asking the right questions."
He stepped closer, his golden eyes glinting with amusement.
"Each world is different. The dangers are different. The people are different. Some
worlds will be easy. Some will be impossible."
Tadashi swallowed hard.
"And the abilities you mentioned? Do I get any?"
Simon smirked. "You’ll find out soon enough."
Simon took out the chalk and drew a glowing circle in the air. "OPEN!"
The portal expanded, shimmering with golden light.
Tadashi stepped back instinctively.
"You ready for round two?" Simon asked.
Tadashi clenched his fists. His mind flashed back to his last attempt, the feeling of the
blade piercing his ribs, the helplessness, the shame of dying instantly.
"Not this time."
He took a deep breath.
"This time… I’ll make it past the first day."
With renewed determination, he stepped into the portal.
Simon watched him disappear into the void, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Let’s see if you last longer than a day this time, kid."
The portal closed.
And Tadashi’s second attempt began.
Tadashi Murata was just a college student...until he died. Now, he’s trapped in an endless cycle of life, death, and something far worse. Each reset changes the rules, warping reality into something unrecognizable. With only fragments of memories to guide him, he must unravel the mystery of his existence before it consumes him.
But survival isn’t enough. To escape, Tadashi must defy fate itself.
Will he break free or lose himself to the cycle forever?
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