I woke to someone poking my face.
"Stop that," I mumbled, swatting at the intrusion.
"Wake up. Classes start in an hour."
I opened my eyes to find Sarah standing over me, fully dressed in her academy uniform, looking far too energetic for whatever ungodly hour it was.
"What time is it?"
"Seven AM. You overslept. I had to sneak back in here to wake you up." She held up two steaming mugs. "I brought coffee as a peace offering for disturbing your beauty sleep."
I sat up, taking the offered mug. Real coffee. Not the cheap stuff. The kind that probably cost more than my mom's daily wages.
"Did you steal this from the royal kitchens?"
"I prefer the term 'appropriated with authority.'" She sat on the edge of my bed. "You slept through the night. No nightmares after you finally passed out. That's good."
The memories of last night came flooding back. The dreams. Elara. Aria. The loop where I'd destroyed everything. Breaking down in front of Sarah.
"About last night—"
"Don't." She held up a hand. "You needed to let it out. I'm glad you trusted me enough to do it. We don't need to make it weird."
"I cried on your shoulder."
"And I'll pretend it never happened if it makes you feel better. That's what friends do." She smiled. "Now drink your coffee and get dressed. First day of classes. Professor Artemis's Advanced Magical Theory at 8 AM sharp."
Right. Artemis's class.
Where I'd meet Celeste.
I drank the coffee—it was excellent, criminally good—and pulled on my uniform. The black jacket with gold trim fit perfectly, tailored by academy magic to each student's measurements. Efficient, if impersonal.
Sarah waited by the door, fidgeting with her braid. "Are you nervous?"
"About classes? I've taken them 73 times."
"About... you know. Seeing everyone again. People you knew in other loops."
"I'm used to it. Every loop starts the same way—familiar faces, different contexts. You learn to compartmentalize."
"That sounds incredibly lonely."
"It is. But it's better than getting attached and watching them die. Again."
She was quiet for a moment. Then: "For what it's worth, I'm here now. In this loop. And I'm not planning on dying anytime soon."
"That's what they all say."
"Yes, but I say it with royal authority. That makes it more official."
Despite everything, I smiled. "Your logic is flawless."
"I know. It's one of my many talents."
We left my room—now blissfully Damien-free after his transfer—and headed toward the Academic Hall. The campus was alive with activity. First-year students rushed around, nervous and excited. Upper years moved with practiced confidence, barely glancing at the newcomers.
Sarah walked beside me, close enough that our shoulders occasionally brushed. She'd dropped the princess mask, at least around me. No practiced smiles or graceful waves. Just her, trying to navigate a world that wanted to put her in a box labeled "delicate royal flower."
"Marcus!" A voice called out.
Luna materialized from a crowd of students, looking far too pleased with herself. She wore the academy uniform but had somehow made it look mysterious and otherworldly. The effect was probably intentional.
"Right on schedule," she said, falling into step beside us. "First day of classes. Professor Artemis. Room 3-B."
"You're very informed for someone who doesn't technically exist," I observed.
"I have my ways." She glanced at Sarah. "Your Highness. Lovely morning, isn't it?"
"It's seven-fifty AM and I'm about to sit through a lecture on magical theory I already know. It's tolerable at best."
"I like her," Luna said to me. "She's honest."
"She's sleep-deprived," I corrected. "There's a difference."
We reached the Academic Hall—a massive stone building with vaulted ceilings and stained glass windows depicting famous mages throughout history. Very dramatic. Very unnecessary.
Room 3-B was on the third floor, a lecture hall with tiered seating arranged in a semicircle around a central stage. Already half-full with students, most looking nervous or excited or both.
I scanned the room, cataloging faces.
There was Damien, sitting in the back with his new lackeys, shooting me murderous glares. Predictable.
There was a cluster of noble kids, all perfectly pressed uniforms and inherited arrogance. They'd cause problems later.
And there, three rows from the front, sitting alone with a stack of books—
Celeste.
She looked exactly as Luna had described. Brown hair, hazel eyes, practical demeanor. Nothing remarkable at first glance.
Until you looked closer.
Her mana signature was enormous. Powerful. And completely uncontrolled. It leaked from her in visible waves, making the air around her shimmer.
"That's her," Luna whispered. "My sister."
"She's a beacon," I said quietly. "Every demon within fifty miles can probably sense her."
"I know. That's why she needs your help."
Sarah leaned in. "Who are we talking about?"
"The girl three rows ahead. Brown hair, surrounded by books. That's Celeste Nightvale. Luna's sister. The one who's going to be attacked by demons in six months."
Sarah studied her. "She looks normal."
"That's the problem. She looks normal but has enough magical power to level a city block. And no control to contain it."
"So you're going to train her."
"That's the plan."
"Your hero complex is showing," Sarah teased.
"I don't have a hero complex. I have a 'preventing unnecessary deaths' complex. Completely different."
"Sure it is."
We took seats near the middle—close enough to watch Celeste, far enough to not draw attention. Luna sat next to me, radiating mysterious anomaly energy that made nearby students unconsciously shift away.
At exactly 8 AM, Professor Artemis swept into the room.
He was tall, distinguished, with silver hair and robes that screamed "I'm important and intellectually superior to you peasants." He carried himself like someone who'd never been told 'no' in his entire life.
In 73 loops, I'd never liked him.
"Welcome," he began, his voice carrying through the hall with practiced ease, "to Advanced Magical Theory. I am Professor Aldric Artemis, foremost expert in theoretical mana manipulation and arcane principles. You are here because you demonstrated exceptional aptitude on your entrance exams. Do not disappoint me."
He launched into his lecture—the same lecture he gave every loop. Basic principles of mana circulation, the three laws of magical conservation, historical context that everyone already knew.
I tuned him out, focusing instead on Celeste.
She was taking notes furiously, her pen flying across the page. Focused. Dedicated. Completely unaware that her mana was leaking like a broken faucet, creating small distortions in the air around her.
"She has no idea, does she?" Sarah whispered.
"None. Probably thinks she's just naturally talented. Doesn't realize she's walking around with a target painted on her back."
"Are you going to talk to her after class?"
"That's the plan."
"And say what? 'Hi, I'm Marcus, I've died 127 times, and by the way, demons are going to try to kill you in six months'? That'll go over well."
"I'll workshop the delivery."
Luna leaned across me. "You could always just demonstrate your power. Nothing says 'trust me' like showing someone you can split your soul into three metaphysical knights."
"That's a terrible idea."
"But it would be impressive."
"Impressively traumatic, maybe."
The lecture droned on. Artemis was now discussing the theoretical limits of mana expansion—information that was outdated by at least thirty years but he refused to acknowledge because it contradicted his stolen research.
Around the forty-minute mark, something interesting happened.
Celeste raised her hand.
"Yes, Miss...?" Artemis consulted his roster. "Miss Nightvale?"
"Professor, you stated that the theoretical limit for mana core expansion is approximately five times the base capacity. But recent research from the Academy of Luminal Arts suggests the limit is actually exponential, not linear, dependent on the individual's soul resonance frequency."
The room went quiet.
Artemis's smile became strained. "The Academy of Luminal Arts is known for... experimental theories. We deal with established principles here."
"But those principles are based on research from fifty years ago. Surely new data should be incorporated—"
"Miss Nightvale." His voice was sharp now. "I have been teaching magical theory for twenty-three years. I have published seventeen papers on the subject. I assure you, I am well-versed in the current state of research."
Celeste didn't back down. "With respect, Professor, seventeen of your papers cite sources that don't exist. And your most famous work, 'The Principles of Harmonic Resonance,' is almost word-for-word identical to a paper published by Dr. Lydia Artemis fifteen years ago. Your late wife."
The room went deathly silent.
Artemis's face turned an interesting shade of purple.
"That is a serious accusation, Miss Nightvale. One that borders on slander."
"It's not slander if it's true. I've read both papers. The similarities are undeniable."
"Detention. Two weeks. And a formal report will be filed with the disciplinary committee."
"For what? Citing factual inconsistencies?"
"For disrespect and disruption of academic proceedings. Now sit down and be silent, or you'll be expelled before the week is out."
Celeste sat down, but her face was flushed with anger, not shame.
I felt a surge of respect for her. In 73 loops, no one had ever called Artemis out on his plagiarism this directly. Most students didn't have the research skills or the courage.
"I like her," I muttered.
"She's got spine," Sarah agreed.
"She's also going to be targeted now," Luna said quietly. "Artemis doesn't forget slights. He'll make her life hell."
"Then we make sure she survives it."
The lecture ended shortly after. Students filed out, most chattering about the confrontation. Celeste packed her books quickly, clearly trying to escape before anyone could ask questions.
I intercepted her at the door.
"That was impressive," I said.
She looked up at me, wary. "What was?"
"Calling out Artemis. Most people are too intimidated by his reputation."
"His reputation is built on stolen work. Someone needed to say it." She tried to move past me. "Excuse me, I have another class—"
"No, you don't. Your next class is Combat Fundamentals with Professor Hendricks, but he's going to be drunk and cancel. You've got three free hours."
She stopped. "How do you know that?"
"Because Hendricks cancels the first day every semester. Calls it 'giving students time to settle in.' Really it's because he drinks too much the night before and can't function."
"That's... oddly specific."
"I pay attention." I gestured to Sarah and Luna, who'd hung back. "This is Sarah Brightwood and Luna Nightvale."
Celeste's eyes widened at Luna's name. "Nightvale. You're—"
"Her sister," Luna confirmed. "The one who technically doesn't exist. It's complicated."
"I've read about anomalies. You're not supposed to be able to interact with causality without creating paradoxes."
"And yet, here I am. Reality is more flexible than the textbooks suggest."
Celeste looked between the three of us, clearly trying to figure out what was happening. "Why are you talking to me? What do you want?"
"To help you," I said simply. "Your mana control is terrible. You're leaking power constantly. Every magical entity within fifty miles can sense you."
"I'm working on it—"
"You don't have time to work on it. In six months, demons are going to attack the academy during the Harvest Festival. They're going to target you specifically because your mana signature is like a beacon. Seventeen people will die trying to protect you."
Her face went pale. "How do you know that?"
"Because I've lived through it. 73 times. This is my 128th loop through these events." I pulled out a piece of paper, writing quickly. "This is the demon's name, classification, and weaknesses. The exact time and location of the attack. Keep this. When the festival comes, you'll know I was telling the truth."
She took the paper with trembling hands. "You're insane."
"Probably. But I'm also right." I met her eyes. "You've been having dreams, haven't you? Visions of fire and death. You wake up feeling like something's watching you."
Her silence confirmed it.
"Those are warnings. Your power is strong enough that it's touching the edges of fate, showing you glimpses of what's coming. But glimpses aren't enough. You need training. Real training."
"And you're offering to train me?"
"I'm offering to teach you how to survive. Whether you accept is up to you."
She looked at the paper, then at Luna, then back at me. "Why should I trust you?"
"Because I'm your sister's only option," Luna said softly. "And because deep down, you already know he's telling the truth."
Celeste was quiet for a long moment. Then: "One session. That's all I'm agreeing to. If you're as good as you claim, I'll consider more."
"Old training grounds. Tomorrow at dawn."
"I have class—"
"Skip it. Artemis is going to spend the entire week punishing you with busywork anyway. You won't miss anything important."
She shook her head. "You're either the most arrogant person I've ever met, or you're actually as capable as you claim."
"Definitely both," Sarah interjected. "It's part of his charm. Very minimal charm, but it's there."
Despite the tension, Celeste almost smiled. "Fine. Tomorrow. Dawn. But if this is some kind of elaborate prank—"
"It's not. I don't have time for pranks. The world is ending in seven years and I'm trying to prevent it."
"Seven years?"
"The demon lord is ahead of schedule. Long story. We'll cover it during training."
She left, looking somewhere between intrigued and terrified.
Luna turned to me. "Thank you. I know that wasn't easy."
"It was fine. I've recruited reluctant students in 45 different loops. I know the script."
"Still. It means everything to me."
Sarah put a hand on my shoulder. "Two students now. You're definitely building a team."
"I'm not building a team. I'm preventing deaths."
"Same thing."
"It's really not."
A voice interrupted from behind us: "Well, well. Marcus Vale. Already making waves on the first day."
I turned to find Raven standing there, her choppy black hair and modified uniform making her stand out among the sea of pressed academy students.
"Raven. Didn't see you in class."
"I was in the back. Observing. You're very interesting to watch—the way you analyze everyone, catalog threats, plan three steps ahead." She pulled out her notebook. "Also, I couldn't help but notice the temporal distortions around that girl you were talking to. Celeste, was it?"
"You can see temporal distortions?"
"I can see lots of things. Comes with being a seventh-generation curse specialist." She studied Luna with interest. "And you. You're fascinating. Existing partially outside causality, anchored to this timeline through sheer force of will. How does that work exactly?"
Luna raised an eyebrow. "You're very perceptive."
"I'm very nosy. There's a difference."
"Is there, though?"
"Not really, no."
I sighed. "Raven, this is Luna and Sarah. Luna is an anomaly. Sarah is a princess who's tired of being a princess. Both are going to get themselves killed following me around."
"Hey!" Sarah protested.
"It's statistically probable," I continued. "In 42 loops, Sarah dies. Luna is new, so I don't have data on her survival rate. But given her tendency to involve herself in dangerous situations, I'm not optimistic."
"You're very reassuring," Sarah said dryly.
"I'm very realistic. There's a difference."
Raven closed her notebook. "I like your group. Very dysfunctional. Very likely to either save the world or destroy it." She looked at me. "My offer still stands, by the way. Room 304. Come find me when you're ready to dig into your regression curse. I've got books that would make reality weep."
"Tempting, but I'm busy preventing apocalypses."
"The two aren't mutually exclusive. Think about it." She walked away, disappearing into the crowd of students.
Luna watched her go. "She's dangerous."
"She's knowledgeable," I corrected. "And knowledge is always dangerous."
"Speaking of dangerous," Sarah said, checking a pocket watch that was probably worth more than my house, "we have thirty minutes before next class. Want to grab lunch?"
"Classes just started. It's 9 AM."
"I meant second breakfast. Keep up, Marcus."
"You're spending too much time around me. Your sense of time is getting distorted."
"Or maybe I'm just hungry. Royal training starts at 5 AM. I've already burned through breakfast one."
Luna nodded. "Food sounds good. I haven't eaten in this timeline today."
"How does that work?" I asked. "Do anomalies need food?"
"I exist partially outside normal causality, not outside basic biology. I still need to eat."
"Fair enough."
We headed toward the dining hall, an absurd trio: a regressor who'd died 127 times, a princess who wanted to be more than her title, and an anomaly who technically shouldn't exist.
Behind us, the academy continued its first-day routines. Students rushing to classes. Professors preparing lectures. The machinery of education grinding forward.
None of them knew that demons were coming.
None of them knew the demon lord was ahead of schedule.
None of them knew that the tired-looking boy walking to second breakfast had watched this world burn 89 times.
"You're doing that thing again," Selene's voice murmured in my mind.
"What thing?"
"The brooding thing. The 'everyone's going to die' thing."
"I'm just being realistic."
"You're catastrophizing. There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"Yes. Realistic is acknowledging danger. Catastrophizing is assuming everything will fail before you've even tried."
I didn't have a response to that.
We reached the dining hall, and Sarah immediately made a beeline for the pastry section. Luna followed more sedately, studying the other students with her unnerving violet eyes.
I grabbed coffee—more coffee, because apparently that was my life now—and sat at a table near the windows.
"So," Sarah said, returning with a plate piled high with various breakfast foods, "two students recruited. What's next in your definitely-not-a-team building?"
"Survival training. Combat practice. Making sure no one dies horribly."
"The usual," Luna added, sipping tea that had appeared in her hand from nowhere. "Though I have to say, Marcus, you're more proactive this loop. Usually, you try to avoid everyone."
"Usually, the demon lord isn't ahead of schedule and reality isn't fracturing."
"Fair point."
We ate in companionable silence, watching the chaos of the first day unfold around us.
And for just a moment, I felt something I hadn't felt in dozens of loops.
Hope.
Maybe this time would be different.
Maybe this time, I could save them.