Cycle Repetition 57
3 Years After the Monster King's Chaos
A training camp stood in a wide open area. Unlike the ruins Han usually found himself walking through — this place still held hope, still full of people working to rebuild civilization after the chaos.
Someone was busy reviewing training records at a wooden table. A tall man with dark blue hair, his posture upright yet relaxed. There was an aura of strength around him.
Han approached with a calm but purposeful stride.
"Training is off today. Didn't you read the notice?" the man said without turning, still focused on his notes.
"I'm not here for training." Han stopped a few meters behind him. "I came at a quiet hour to find you... Zed, the Hero of Water."
At that, Zed turned. His blue eyes studied Han with a subtle curiosity, as though he could read something concealed beneath the surface.
"Oh, is that so?" He set down his pen. "Tell me what I need to know."
Han drew a slow breath. "Rineva. You've heard that name. In the turns of fate, the two of us have both heard her voice."
Zed stilled — just slightly. Then he smiled, an expression somewhere between amusement and recognition. "Hah. The master of time."
"I come from a different age. My name is Han. In my time, you are already gone."
The words came out with brutal honesty.
Zed didn't look surprised or unsettled. If anything, a flicker of genuine interest crossed his face.
"Oh, so the moment from that whisper has finally come for me."
He leaned back against the table, crossing his arms. "Then what brings you here?"
Han held Zed's gaze — eyes that somehow managed to look both hollow and blazing with quiet intensity. "I have walked fifty-seven cycles. The Guardian of Time hunts me, and I… cannot defeat it."
A brief silence. His voice dropped lower.
"I need the Divine Mark of Water."
"I'm asking," Zed's voice took on a more serious note, "what your purpose is."
"I want to save my sister from the fate that takes her." Han's hand closed into a fist. "But honestly… I also want to save everyone."
"Hmph." Zed let out a dismissive sound.
"What an incredibly naive thing to say."
Han flinched — a flash of pain moved through his face. "I know. You've said the same thing in every cycle."
"Hah." Zed laughed — a sound that was somehow both mocking and, underneath it, warm.
"If there's a version of me in some other cycle saying something that foolish, I'd find a way to tear through the cycle and put them down myself."
He straightened up.
"But unfortunately, only you can do that."
Han lifted his head, clearly taken aback.
"So you mean… you're willing to help me?"
"Of course. Divine Marks exist precisely for missions of rescue."
Zed stepped closer.
"But I ask one thing in return — tell me when I die. Just not how."
A moment of quiet. Their eyes met. "You said… you've seen my body."
Han was silent for a beat, measuring his words. "Seven years from now. That is when you die. Are you not afraid?"
"Hahaha!"
Zed laughed openly — genuine, even joyful.
"What is there to be afraid of? If that's my fate, I'll walk toward it. Honestly, I can't wait to see what my death looks like."
He drew a knife from his belt. Without a moment's hesitation, he drew it across his own palm. Blood welled up — blue-tinged, carrying a faint luminescence, reflecting the nature of his power.
Zed extended his bloodied hand.
"Tell me — when did you first begin collecting Divine Marks?"
Han took the hand. Where their blood met, a slow pulse of power detonated — an ancient, sacred transfer of energy.
"I began collecting three Divine Marks starting from cycle fourteen."
A deep guilt lived in Han's eyes as he said it.
Zed's expression shifted to something contemplative.
"Hmm… in this fifty-seventh cycle, that means you're carrying a hundred and thirty-two Divine Marks. Does your body not break under all of that?"
"That's…" Han's voice wavered, just slightly.
"Still not enough. I will keep moving forward through these cycles."
"But sooner or later…" Zed's voice softened, carrying something that resembled concern. "You'll tear yourself apart."
Han looked out toward the horizon.
"Almost certainly. I will burn… and be reduced to ash."
Silence. Then his resolve hardened, coming through clearly in every word.
"But before that happens, I will sever this fate."
In cycle fifty-seven, Han succeeded in gathering a hundred and thirty-two Divine Marks. A long, unrelenting journey — collecting them to reach his goal, and sacrificing pieces of his humanity along the way.
Every Divine Mark came with a price — lives given up, trust broken, and the slow erosion of what made him human.
But Han moved forward. Always forward.
-
Cycle Repetition 134
A cliff's edge that Han knew well. The wind blew with a biting cold. The sky was ashen, heavy with the promise of rain.
Han sat at the edge, legs dangling above the drop. His face was completely blank — not sad, not angry, only… emptiness.
Footsteps approached from behind. Steady, purposeful, full of rage.
"Han."
Ensei stood several meters away. But this was not the cheerful, mischievous Ensei Han had always known. Ensei's eyes burned with anger and betrayal.
"He sacrificed himself for your cause."
His voice shook, barely contained. "And now I just want to know — when their mortal bodies were swallowed by the darkness, why didn't you shed a single tear?"
Han didn't turn. Didn't answer. Just kept staring into the abyss below.
"Your indifference makes my skin crawl." Ensei's hand balled into a fist at his side. "Were they nothing but meaningless entries in your records?"
Finally, Han spoke. His voice was low, empty — yet somehow carrying a weight that was crushing.
"Grief is my eternal companion."
He looked down at his own hands — covered in scars, etched with the symbols of Divine Marks. "With three kinds of Divine Marks in my hands, the fire in this heart only burns fiercer."
A pause. His voice dropped to a whisper — and yet somehow it rang louder than a shout.
"I will remember this world through rage. As long as I keep burning, they are never truly gone."
Ensei went silent. He let the words settle. Then he laughed — bitter, broken, the sound of something fracturing from within.
"Maybe… it's already too late. But you're right."
He drew his dagger.
"Rage, right now, is the only thing I can hold onto. So…"
Grey light caught along the edge of the blade.
"Draw your sword, Han!"
Han finally rose. Slowly. Mechanically. A blade of ice formed in his hand.
"Again… and again."
His voice was flat. Resigned.
A brief fight.
When it was over, Ensei lay still. Blood pooled around him. His eyes stared blankly up at the sky.
Han stood over the body, his expression unchanged.
No sorrow. No remorse. Only… emptiness.
Then he turned and walked away.
Leaving behind one more body along a trail that had no end.
-
Cycle Repetition 395
The forest that had once been green was now an ocean of fire. Trees burned and collapsed. The earth cracked from the searing heat. The air itself shimmered, as though it might melt skin.
In the middle of the inferno, two figures fought.
Han — almost unrecognizable now. His body was covered in glowing scars, radiating power drawn from thousands of Divine Marks. Black hair streaked with elemental color. His eyes burned with a fire that was no longer entirely human.
And the shadow — the Guardian of Time — had also evolved. Stronger, sharper. Matching Han's transformation in a terrible symmetry.
Han's arm bled — a deep wound that should have been fatal, but he kept moving.
"AAAAHHH!"
His cry tore through the air. Fire detonated from every part of him — a wave so vast it shattered trees, liquefied stone, and turned the earth to lava.
The entire stretch of forest and cliffside was obliterated. Gone.
But the shadow survived. It emerged from the flames, launching forward at impossible speed.
Thunk.
A sword drove into Han's abdomen.
Han choked. He vomited blood. But even now, he struck back. A burning fist slammed into the shadow. Then in an instant he froze it — an ice prison, straining to hold.
"Ahhh…"
Han fell to his knees. A fatal wound. Blood pooled around him.
But he was still speaking. Still defiant.
"If this is not yet the end, then I will keep moving forward… until I witness the end of this journey."
His voice strengthened even as he was dying.
"But I will never… bow to what they call fate."
The ice cracked. The shadow broke free.
Han's hand blazed. Temporal energy was released.
"Never."
Flash.
Reset.
Cycle 396 began.
-
Somewhere outside of time, Rineva watched — her eyes filled with something that was not quite sorrow, and not quite wonder, but something in between.
"How much longer will you keep burning yourself down to nothing, Han?" she whispered into the void that did not answer.
"How much longer before there is nothing left to save?"
To be continued…