It began with the rain.
Scarlet stood at the edge of the hall, watching the storm roll in. Wind kissed the curtains, and thunder crawled across the estate grounds like something ancient stirring in its sleep.
She hadn't seen Kale all day.
But she could feel it.
Something had changed.
The pressure was different. The tension that had wrapped around him like iron bands was… loosening.
"It's starting again. The feelings. I hate this part."
His voice echoed in her skull. Not mechanical, not cold.
Human.
Scarlet stepped back from the window. Her heart picked up.
For the past three days, his thoughts had been hollow commands, flat calculations. But this?
This sounded like him.
Kale was in the chamber beneath the western wing.
A place with no light, no flame. Only memory.
He knelt in silence, palms pressed to the stone floor, his body shaking—not with pain, but with feeling.
"The rage is back."
"The sorrow. The guilt. The hunger."
His hands curled into fists.
"How many times have I felt this flood? How many lifetimes of grief now? How many versions of her have I lost?"
Scarlet stood just outside the doorway. She didn't dare enter.
She simply listened.
And when he began to cry—silently, without a sound—she didn't move.
Because she understood now.
Kale wasn't just powerful.
He was shattered.
And every time he returned, he had to piece together what was left of himself from ashes.
He emerged at dawn.
Hair wet. Eyes darker. Breathing heavier.
But he was present.
His gaze met Scarlet's as she stood at the base of the steps.
No words passed between them.
But something else did.
"I'm sorry if I scared you."
Her breath caught.
He knew.
"I didn't want you to see me like that. But it was necessary. Every loop takes more to hold together."
She didn't respond with thoughts. Only words.
"I stayed," she said simply.
And for a moment, his mask cracked.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Later that day, Evan approached her in the rose garden, a box of strawberries in hand and that same practiced grin she'd known since childhood.
"You've been distant," he said lightly, picking a fruit. "Everything alright?"
Scarlet nodded, not meeting his gaze.
"You've been spending a lot of time watching him," he added.
A pause.
Then—
"You're not falling for him again, are you?"
That was his trick: say it like a joke, but watch like a hawk.
Scarlet forced a smile. "Hard not to watch a storm," she said.
Evan raised a brow. "Just be careful, Scar. The closer you stand to the lightning…"
He let the words trail off.
She looked at him then. Really looked.
And for the first time… she didn't see the boy who once made her laugh.
She saw something colder behind those green eyes.
That night, Kale stood on the edge of the estate walls, the wind tugging at his cloak.
He didn't say a word.
But his thoughts came clear.
"It's happening again. The divergence. Evan's mask is cracking. The signs are all there."
"If I don't act soon, it won't be the world that burns. It'll be her."
He looked down toward the courtyard—where Scarlet sat alone beneath a flickering lantern.
And for the first time in this loop—
He smiled.
A quiet, broken smile.
"Maybe this time, I don't lose her."