Chapter Five: The Rule That Was Never Spoken
Loop ninety-four began wrong.
The mountain was quieter.
The wind still screamed, but it screamed less, like a throat worn raw. The sky looked bruised, the moon dimmer, as if something had been taken from it and not replaced.
The boy noticed immediately.
His heart started pounding.
"…You're getting impatient," he whispered.
The caravan moved.
Chains rattled.
But fewer people were attached to them now.
Not because they had survived.
Because the mountain had stopped remembering them.
Faces blurred. Voices overlapped. Some slaves flickered at the edges of his vision, as if the world itself was uncertain whether they still belonged here.
The loop was decaying.
That was bad.
That meant the Nightmare was reaching a decision.
The chimera emerged early.
Too early.
It crawled up from the void before the first bend, claws gouging blackened scars into the road. Rot spread behind it like a stain that time refused to clean.
It did not roar.
It did not rush.
It sat.
Sat on its haunches like a grotesque judge and watched the caravan approach.
"You are late," it said calmly. "Again."
The boy swallowed.
"Then start without me."
The monster's eyes glowed brighter.
"…You think this is about survival," it continued. "That's why you keep failing."
The boy said nothing.
He had learned that silence made the creature talk.
"This mountain," the chimera said, gesturing with one massive claw, "does not test strength. Or intelligence. Or cruelty."
Rot dripped from its talons, hissing as it touched stone.
"It tests submission."
The word hit harder than any death.
"…No," the boy said hoarsely.
"Yes." The chimera leaned forward. "Every soul that passes here is given the same choice. Walk. Obey. Accept your place. Those who do are forgotten quickly."
Its smile widened.
"You are the only one who refuses."
The caravan halted.
Soldiers shouted.
Whips cracked.
Slaves screamed.
But the boy barely heard them.
"…That's the rule," he murmured. "Isn't it?"
The chimera tilted its head.
"Oh?"
"This Nightmare isn't about killing you," the boy continued slowly, mind racing despite the fractures. "It's about whether I accept being powerless."
He laughed—a thin, cracked sound.
"If I do… the loop ends. I survive. I pass."
The monster's silence was answer enough.
"…And if I don't," he whispered.
The chimera rose.
"Then you stay," it said softly. "Until you break."
Loop ninety-five.
The boy did something different.
He didn't fight.
He didn't run.
He walked.
Head down. Shoulders slumped. Steps measured.
He let the chain guide him.
The chimera watched, curious.
Soldiers relaxed slightly.
The mountain sighed.
When the monster emerged, it moved lazily, rot spreading but restrained.
The boy did not look at it.
He kept walking.
Slaves screamed.
People died.
He survived.
The loop continued.
Loop ninety-six.
Same thing.
Submission.
Silence.
Obedience.
The rot missed him by inches.
The monster did not pursue.
The mountain felt… pleased.
Loop ninety-seven.
He survived again.
The pain was less.
The deaths blurred together.
The chimera watched him with something like approval.
"…Good," it said. "You're learning."
The boy vomited.
Not from rot.
From disgust.
Loop ninety-eight.
He didn't scream when the whip tore his back open.
Didn't flinch when someone fell screaming into the void beside him.
Didn't look when the chimera devoured a slave alive.
He survived.
Again.
The mountain tightened around him like a fist.
Loop ninety-nine.
He woke shaking.
Not from fear.
From revulsion.
"…This is the win condition," he whispered. "Isn't it?"
Accept weakness.
Accept injustice.
Accept survival at the cost of self.
His chest hurt.
His thoughts tangled.
Isn't that what I did before?
Six jobs. No rest. No resistance.
Just… endure.
The chimera loomed closer this time, sniffing him.
"You are almost ready," it murmured. "One more step."
Loop one hundred.
The mountain felt wrong again.
The sky flickered.
The road cracked.
The Spell was watching closely now.
The boy walked.
Chains rattled.
Slaves screamed.
He felt nothing.
And that terrified him more than death ever had.
The chimera did not attack.
It walked beside him.
"You could end this," it whispered. "Right now."
The boy nodded slowly.
"Yes," he said.
Then he stopped.
The chain jerked.
The caravan stumbled.
Soldiers shouted.
The chimera froze.
"…What are you doing?"
The boy raised his head.
His eyes were bloodshot.
His smile was unsteady.
"I remembered something," he said.
The monster narrowed its eyes.
"What?"
The boy laughed.
Not broken laughter.
Not hysterical laughter.
Something sharp.
Something awake.
"I already accepted this once," he said. "And it killed me."
The mountain trembled.
Rot spread uncontrollably for the first time.
"You cannot win without submitting," the chimera snarled.
"Then this Nightmare isn't testing worth," the boy replied. "It's testing compliance."
The creature lunged.
Too fast.
Too close.
Claws pierced his chest.
Rot bloomed.
Pain returned in full, screaming color.
As the world collapsed, the boy clutched the monster's arm and whispered—
"Next loop… I don't survive."
The chimera froze.
"…What?"
Darkness swallowed him.
He woke screaming.
But not from pain.
From clarity.
"…I get it now," he whispered, chest heaving. "I don't break the loop by winning."
The mountain loomed.
The caravan moved.
The chimera waited.
The boy's mind raced, fragments snapping together.
"If submission ends it… then refusal defines it."
He laughed softly.
Broken.
Dangerous.
"…So how do I refuse," he murmured, "without becoming what you want me to be?"
The wind howled.
The Spell watched.
And somewhere deep inside his soul—
Something old stirred.