**TWO MONTHS AFTER SERAPHINA'S ARRIVAL**
The late autumn wind cut across the academy rooftop where I stood, watching the sun set over Valenhall. Two months had passed since Sarah's return, since Seraphina had appeared and turned everything sideways.
Two months of intensive training. Of building alliances. Of preparing for a war still seven years away.
Two months of relative peace.
Which meant I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"You're brooding again," a voice said behind me.
I didn't turn. I'd gotten used to Seraphina's habit of appearing without warning. "I'm thinking. There's a difference."
"Not much of one, from where I'm standing."
She moved to stand beside me at the railing. Two months of proximity had made me familiar with her appearance in a way that first meeting hadn't allowed.
Seraphina Valdris was... striking. Not beautiful in the conventional sense, but impossible to look away from. Her white hair fell to her waist, straight and fine like spun silk, occasionally shifting to silver when light hit it certain ways. Her eyes were the most unsettling feature—crimson, like freshly spilled blood, with slit pupils that marked her demonic heritage. When she was thinking or using her power, they glowed faintly, almost luminescent.
She was tall for a woman—about 5'9"—with a build that suggested both grace and danger. Not muscular like a warrior, but with the coiled tension of a predator. She dressed practically most days—dark colors, fitted clothes that allowed movement, always boots instead of the delicate shoes nobles preferred.
Today she wore black pants, a deep red shirt that matched her eyes, and a long coat that somehow made her look both elegant and dangerous.
"You've been avoiding me," she said, watching the sunset rather than looking at me.
"I've been busy."
"You've been avoiding me," she repeated. "For two weeks now. Ever since you had that nightmare about Loop 89."
I tensed. "How do you know about that?"
"Temporal perception. I can see echoes of strong emotions bleeding across timelines. That particular nightmare was..." She paused. "Intense. Even for you."
"You said you only saw Loops 126 and 127."
"I lied." She turned to face me, crimson eyes glowing slightly in the fading light. "Or rather, I simplified. I can see fragments of many loops. But 126 and 127 are the ones I observed most completely. The others are just... glimpses. Emotional echoes. Significant moments."
My hand went to where my swords would be. "How much do you actually know?"
"Enough to understand why you're avoiding me. Enough to know that Loop 89 wasn't the only time you destroyed cities." She said it calmly, without judgment. "After Loop 112. After Aria died. You stopped trying to be a hero. Started being something else entirely."
The temperature dropped around us. Not from weather. From me.
"How many loops?" I asked, my voice dangerous.
"Fifteen. From Loop 113 to Loop 127. Every single time, the same pattern." She didn't flinch from my power. "One month at the academy. Then you'd leave. Travel to different cities—Nordholm, Solvaris, the Eastern settlements. And you'd practice."
"Practice."
"Destruction. Control. Efficiency. You'd burn entire cities to ash. Not in rage like Loop 89. Methodically. Testing the limits of your power. Seeing how much you could destroy before Azkaros showed up." Her voice remained neutral. "No survivors. No witnesses. Just ash and silence."
I released my first seal. Power crackled around me. "And you think what? That I'll do it again? That I'm a monster you need to watch?"
"I think you're someone who broke so completely that destroying cities felt like practice instead of genocide." She stepped closer, unafraid. "I think Aria's death fractured something in you that took fifteen loops to even partially heal. I think you're terrified of it happening again—terrified of Sarah dying and you reverting to that person."
"Don't—"
"It's why you have nightmares. Not just about the people you loved dying. About the innocent ones you killed. The children in those cities. The families. The people who had nothing to do with your pain but died anyway because you were practicing."
My swords appeared in my hands. "Stop."
"No." She didn't move. "Because you need to hear this: I don't care. About the cities. About the bodies. About any of it."
That shocked me enough to pause. "What?"
"I'm descended from a Demon Lord, Marcus. My great-great-grandfather killed fifteen million people in the First Demon War. My family history is genocide and conquest. You think a few cities across fifteen loops makes you a monster?" She laughed—harsh and bitter. "You're barely a footnote compared to my bloodline."
"That's not—"
"I'm not saying it was right. I'm saying I understand." Her crimson eyes met mine. "You broke. Completely. And when you break, you destroy everything around you. It's a pattern. Loop 89, you destroyed Valenhall in rage. Loops 113-127, you destroyed other cities in grief. This loop—Loop 128—you're trying desperately not to break at all."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I need you to trust me. Really trust me. Not the conditional 'I'll work with you but keep you at arm's length' trust. Actual trust." She reached out slowly, giving me time to pull away, and placed her hand over one of my swords. "And I can't have that trust if you think I'll expose your worst secrets."
The sword should have hurt her. Should have flooded her with 127 deaths.
Instead, she just... held it. Her demon blood apparently giving her resistance I hadn't expected.
"Loop 126," she said quietly. "You destroyed three cities. Loop 127, you destroyed five. I watched you do it. Watched you stand in the ash afterwards, alone, and I couldn't intervene because I was still learning to control my temporal perception." She squeezed the blade gently. "I've been watching you destroy yourself for two loops. I'm not about to expose that now."
I dismissed the swords. She didn't flinch when they vanished from under her hand.
"Why not?" I asked. "Why keep my secrets?"
"Because someone has to. Because carrying them alone is killing you. Because..." She looked away. "Because I know what it's like to be descended from monsters and fear becoming one yourself."
We stood in silence as the sun fully set, the academy lights beginning to glow below us.
"Raven knows," I said finally. "She was bound to observe all my loops. She's seen everything."
"And Sarah?"
"Knows about Loop 89. That I destroyed Valenhall. That I killed millions. She doesn't know about the others. About the fifteen loops of systematic destruction. About..." I swallowed hard. "About the fact that practicing genocide felt normal by Loop 120."
"Are you going to tell her?"
"Should I? Should I tell the girl I love that I spent fifteen loops committing mass murder because I was too broken to stop?"
"That's your choice. But Marcus—" She moved to face me fully. "This loop is different. You said so yourself. Luna is new. I'm new. The timeline is accelerating. Maybe... maybe you don't have to break this time."
"And if Sarah dies anyway? If despite everything, I lose her like I lost Aria?"
"Then you don't destroy cities. You destroy Azkaros. Channel that rage into something productive." Her eyes glowed brighter. "That's why I'm here. To make sure if you break, you break in the right direction."
"That's horrifying."
"That's practical. You're all about practical."
I almost smiled. "You're spending too much time around me. You're starting to sound like me."
"Someone has to keep up with your fatalistic worldview." She leaned against the railing. "So. Are we good? Can you stop avoiding me now?"
"Depends. Are there any other secrets you're keeping? Any other loops you've observed?"
"Just glimpses. Emotional fragments. Nothing concrete." She paused. "Though I should mention—Loop 96. The successful one. I felt that. Felt you die holding Sarah, felt the regression kick in. That one hurt."
"Hurt?"
"Temporal echoes of victory followed immediately by defeat. It resonates badly." She rubbed her temples. "That's why I think this loop is important. It's the first one in thirty-two loops where you haven't destroyed cities. The first one where you're actually trying to build something instead of just surviving until you die."
"Thirty-two loops?"
"Since Loop 96. Since you won and lost everything simultaneously. You've been degrading for three decades of subjective time." She looked at me seriously. "Marcus, I need you to understand something: you're running out of time. Not just until Azkaros. Until you shatter completely. Raven says twenty to thirty loops maximum. But I can see the fractures. You've got maybe fifteen. Maybe ten if you break again."
"So pressure me more. That'll help."
"I'm being honest. You claim to value honesty."
"I value honesty that doesn't come with existential dread attached."
"Then you're in the wrong reality." She pushed off the railing. "Come on. Sarah's probably wondering where you are. And Celeste has been asking about additional training. Something about that demon attack in six months."
"Four months now. Time keeps moving."
"It does that. Inconsiderate, really."
We headed for the stairs, leaving the rooftop behind.
"Seraphina?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you. For keeping the secrets. For not judging."
"I'm descended from genocidal demons. I'm in no position to judge." She paused at the stairwell door. "But Marcus? If you do break this loop. If Sarah dies and you feel that rage building. Come find me first. Before you burn any cities. Let me help channel it."
"Why?"
"Because I've seen what happens when you break alone. I'd rather be there to point you at actual enemies instead of innocent civilians."
"That's disturbingly pragmatic."
"I learned from the best." She grinned—showing slightly sharper canines than human normal. "Now come on. I'm hungry, and the dining hall stops serving in thirty minutes."
As we descended, I felt something I hadn't felt in loops: relief. Not happiness. Not peace. Just relief that someone knew the worst of me and hadn't run.
It wasn't much.
But after 127 loops of carrying everything alone, it was something.