The sky was broken.
Shards of heaven drifted like glass across the void, bleeding starlight into a battlefield drowned in silence. Rivers ran backward. Mountains floated like corpses adrift in an endless ocean. The bones of gods lay scattered, their halos cracked and fading.
And in the center of it all, he stood.
Arion Valestar, last survivor of a war that had already ended. His armor was shattered, his body bleeding from a hundred wounds, but his eyes still burned with stubborn light. A single sword remained in his grasp—its blade fractured, mirroring the world around him.
Behind him, three figures emerged through the mist. His comrades. His brothers-in-arms. The ones who had laughed with him, fought beside him, bled with him across countless wars.
The ones who had betrayed him.
Their weapons gleamed in the broken starlight as they leveled them at his back.
"Why?" Arion's voice cracked. He had asked this question across a thousand ends, and still the silence was the same.
One of them chuckled, low and mocking. "Because you never learned. You never understood what the Nexus truly is."
A blade pierced his side. Fire spread through his veins, but it was not the pain that made him stagger—it was the weight of betrayal. Again.
The fractured sky convulsed. Patterns of impossible light tore across the heavens, fractals devouring the horizon. The Eternal Nexus had awakened, vast and indifferent.
[NEXUS SYSTEM INITIALIZING…]
[TIMELINE: TERMINATED]
[SURVIVAL CHANCE: 0%]
The voice of the Nexus, cold and alive, echoed in his mind:
"Regress… or vanish."
Arion's breath rattled in his throat. The ground crumbled beneath him, swallowing the corpses of gods into endless void. He could not stand. He could barely lift his broken blade. But he still forced the words past his torn lips:
"I will return. Even if I must crawl through a thousand shattered dawns—I will return."
The Nexus consumed him. Light fractured into darkness.
[SOUL ANCHOR ENGAGED]
[INITIATING REGRESSION SEQUENCE…]
And the world collapsed.
Arion gasped awake.
Air rushed into his lungs, thick and real. His eyes snapped open to a ceiling of worn wooden beams. A lantern flickered softly on the wall. Outside, the muffled chatter of villagers drifted in through an open window.
He was not on the battlefield. Not at the end of time.
His trembling hands pressed against his face. Smooth skin. No scars. No calluses. His body was smaller, his arms thin and fragile. He was… young.
"…No," he whispered, voice shaking.
The Nexus pulsed faintly in his skull.
[Regression successful.]
[Timeline anchor established.]
Arion's heart pounded. The memories hit him like a storm—countless battles, endless deaths, betrayals that carved scars into his soul. The lives he couldn't save. The sister he buried in every cycle. The parents he never once protected.
He bit down on his lip until he tasted blood.
"…It worked."
The words were a broken laugh, a sob, and a vow all at once. He stumbled to the window. Fields stretched outside, glowing golden beneath the morning sun. Farmers tilled the soil. Children ran barefoot, laughing. Life, untouched. Innocent.
A life that would one day be reduced to ash.
His fists trembled. Not again.
A sudden burn seared across his chest. Sigils of light—fractals—shimmered faintly across his skin before fading.
[Warning: Soul Authority Strain detected.]
[Stability: 41%]
Pain lanced through his soul, raw and tearing. He collapsed to his knees, teeth clenched to keep from screaming. The burden of regression was no gift—it was a curse that shredded him from the inside.
But he endured. Because knowledge was sharper than any blade.
And this time, he would not fail.
"Arion!"
A voice, warm and familiar, called from below. His eyes widened. That voice—he had not heard it in decades.
Slowly, trembling, he turned toward the door.
His mother stood there. Selene Valestar. Alive.
She smiled gently. "Breakfast is ready. Don't make your sister wait too long."
Behind her, a small figure darted into the room.
"Big brother!" Lyra threw herself into his arms, laughing. Her small hands clutched at his tunic, her hair brushing his cheek.
Arion froze. The world blurred. For a heartbeat, the boy who had died a thousand times crumbled. Tears slipped down his face, silent and unstoppable.
"…Lyra." His voice broke as he pulled her close, holding her as if the world itself might tear her away.
This time.
This time, he swore no god, no betrayal, no Nexus itself would take them from him.
————
Arion sat at the small wooden table, hands trembling around the bowl his mother had set before him. The aroma of stew filled the room—simple, earthy, alive. It had been centuries since he had last tasted this. Centuries since he had seen his mother's soft smile, or heard his sister hum as she swung her legs beneath the table.
He had eaten at banquet halls of kings and dined among godslayers, but never once had he savored food the way he did now. Each bite was a prayer, a vow, a reminder of what he had lost.
Selene glanced at him, amused. "What's gotten into you? You look like you've never seen stew before."
Arion forced a laugh. "It's just… better than I remembered."
Lyra giggled, spoon clattering against the bowl. "That's because you're always sneaking bread instead of waiting for meals!"
He smiled faintly, ruffling her hair. Bread… stew… laughter… These are the things I'll protect, no matter the cost.
But beneath the warmth, the Nexus pulsed.
[Fractal Codex: Locked.]
[Soul Authority: Stabilizing… 38%.]
[Directive: Observe. Adapt. Survive.]
Arion's jaw tightened. The system's voice was subtle, almost alive. Not a tool, not a gift—an overseer. Watching. Measuring. Manipulating.
And yet, he needed it. Without the Nexus, he would have been nothing more than a corpse in the ruins of time.
"Arion," Selene's voice cut through his thoughts. "The academy selection is next month. You've been slacking in your training, haven't you?"
His heart skipped. Academy. Of course. This was earlier than he remembered—long before the kingdom fell into chaos, before the great fractures began to devour the land.
The Academy Arc… so it begins here.
Lyra pouted. "He's not slacking, Mama. He's just… slow."
Arion chuckled, shaking his head. If only they knew. If only they could see the blood-drenched futures etched into his soul.
"I'll be ready," he said firmly. "More than ready."
That night, sleep did not come easily. Arion stood in the small yard behind their home, the moonlight spilling across the grass. In his hand was a wooden training sword, light and familiar.
He swung once, twice, thrice. The motions were clumsy—his young body untrained, unrefined. But his mind remembered. His soul carried centuries of battle.
He shifted his stance, correcting what his body could not yet master. Sparks of movement returned to him—footwork honed against abyssal beasts, parries forged in wars against false gods. Each swing sent ripples of memory colliding with weakness.
And then it happened.
The air stirred.
A faint shimmer coiled around his wrist, glowing with lines too intricate to belong to nature. The shape twisted, fractured, reformed—like the beginning of a Fractal.
Arion froze. Already?
The glow pulsed, faint but alive. His first connection—the precursor to the Fractal Bond.
From the darkness beyond the fence, eyes gleamed. A pair of silver orbs, low to the ground, watching.
Arion's breath caught. He recognized that presence. In another life, in another timeline, that creature had become his first bond—a beast of loyalty and tragedy. It had died protecting Lyra when Arion was too far away to save her.
Not this time.
The silver eyes blinked once, then vanished into the night. But the bond had begun.
When he finally returned inside, Lyra was asleep on the couch, curled beneath a blanket. Selira dozed in her chair, knitting fallen into her lap.
Arion lingered, watching them. His chest tightened with a mixture of love and fear so sharp it was unbearable.
"…This time," he whispered, brushing a hand through Lyra's hair. "This time, I'll change everything."
Outside, the moon seemed to fracture faintly, as though reality itself shivered in anticipation.
And the Nexus whispered:
[New Directive Available.]
[Survive the Academy.]
[Uncover the Betrayer's First Move.]
Arion's eyes narrowed. So even here, at the beginning, betrayal was already taking root.
The game had begun.