The knights and squires grew more restless with each passing hour. Their anxiety wasn't loud, but it was there—like an electric hum vibrating under their skin. They hadn't been in the loop for long, but already, the weight of their situation was sinking in, creeping under their thoughts like an insidious shadow. Endless repetition. Locked in time. The truth of it had begun to settle like a storm cloud on the horizon, suffocating the air around them. And that uncertainty—more than the looping landscape or the physical exhaustion—was eating away at their sanity.
Rei, their leader, who had once been a pillar of strength, was no longer the same. At first, it had been subtle—his moments of quiet reflection, staring out into the distance as though something beyond their sight was pulling at him. But it had grown worse. His focus, once sharp and unwavering, had dulled. His sharp eyes no longer gleamed with purpose; they were distant, as if the world around him had begun to slip away. He no longer carried the fire that had once ignited the group. The Rei they had known was gone, replaced by someone unrecognizable, and the weight of it settled on the group like a heavy blanket.
Riven, his closest ally, had followed a similar path. Where there had once been warmth, now there was an icy detachment. He withdrew further each day, his thoughts scattered, like shards of glass strewn across the ground. His words, when he spoke, were fractured, barely more than murmurs. He had always been the quieter one, but now, it was as though the weight of their situation was cracking him open from the inside, leaving nothing but hollow fragments behind.
With the two of them slipping away, the others—those who had once relied on Rei and Riven for direction—began to shift their focus. They turned, almost imperceptibly at first, toward Erasmus. It had happened slowly, almost unnoticed. In the quiet moments, Erasmus became the anchor they subconsciously sought out, offering them stability in a world that felt like it was falling apart. It wasn't deliberate, at least not entirely. It had just… happened. The trust they had once placed in their original leaders had begun to fray, dissolving in the face of the unknown.
And then there was Ilya.
Ilya was different. The squire who had stood by them since the beginning, quietly observing, was oddly untouched by the madness creeping into the others. While the knights shifted restlessly, whispering anxiously to one another, Ilya remained still—his calm almost unnerving. It was as if the weight of the loop, the crushing repetition that had already begun to wear on the others, simply slid off him. His gaze, usually sharp and alert, was now distant, but not in the same way as Rei's or Riven's. His detachment was a quiet thing, a serene stillness that seemed to mock the tension around him.
Rei, his patience already threadbare, broke the silence with a sharp voice. "Haven't you seen the jagged fallen tree?" His eyes narrowed at Ilya, as though the very question was an affront. "We've already passed it twice."
Ilya blinked slowly, his eyes following Rei's gaze to the horizon, but his expression remained calm, unflustered. "We've only passed it once," he said quietly, as though the suggestion didn't make sense to him. "Why would we have passed it twice?"
Rei's frustration flared. "It's the same path! The same place! Don't you see? We're trapped in a loop!"
Ilya's brow furrowed slightly, but his tone remained steady, almost detached. "I don't understand. How can it be a loop? We haven't even reached the end of the trial yet. How can we know what comes next?"
The others shifted uneasily, their eyes darting between Ilya and Rei. The air felt thick with tension. How could Ilya not feel it? The repetition, the oppressive weight of time folding in on itself, the eerie déjà vu that had started to worm its way into their minds. It was there, undeniable, sinking into their bones. How could he be so calm?
Riven stepped forward, his voice colder than usual. "You're not seeing it. Time doesn't care about your sense of when things begin. It'll loop back on us, over and over. Don't you feel that pressure? The dread? The idea of reliving this, over and over again?"
Ilya shook his head, his expression unchanged. "I don't feel any of that. You're… all overthinking it." His words were almost gentle, as though he were speaking to children who had worked themselves into a panic over nothing.
Rei stepped forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword—a nervous tic he had developed in the last few days. His face was tight with frustration, his words sharp. "Ilya, how can you not see it? Time is bending around us. The loop, the repetition, the weight of it all—don't you feel it? It's only a matter of time before it breaks us."
But Ilya's gaze remained unfazed. "No. I just feel like we're here to do our trial. We haven't even made it halfway through, so why worry?"
The others exchanged uneasy glances. Ilya's words didn't sit right with them, but there was something about his certainty—his lack of fear—that felt both off-putting and… unsettling. How could he not feel the same fear? The same pressure that had begun to crush them all?
Erasmus, watching from the shadows, allowed himself a small, almost imperceptible smile. Ilya's detachment, his complete emotional disconnect, was becoming a problem. It was unpredictable—dangerous. If Ilya truly didn't understand what was happening, if he was blind to the loop that was slowly tightening around them all, then he could be a pawn in a much larger game. And Erasmus, ever the patient observer, was content to let this uncertainty play out. For now, Ilya was an enigma, a piece he couldn't fully read. But he would. Eventually.
The tension in the group grew as Ilya's words continued to hang in the air, gnawing at their sense of reality. Could they trust him? Could they trust anyone?
Erasmus knew one thing for certain: the loop had only just begun, and it was already tearing them apart. And as the others looked to him for answers, he allowed himself a small, knowing smile. The chaos was unfolding exactly as he had planned.