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“Uhh…” I woke up, looking at the beam of light on my colored pillow. I woke up from something that had just killed me, of that I was fairly sure. The longer I sat there thinking the clearer and more coalescing my thoughts became. I had recalled variations of the unfolding day, at first thinking it was just dreams within dreams but they were too vivid, too painful. On some level something really messed up was happening here.
I felt this aura or field around me, as if it was a physical medium. It was dark and thick, like the feeling at graveyards but a thousand times stronger. The more I lay there the more I could slowly start feeling experiences of sorts wash over me. It was strong ones at first: fear, anger, lust. But it had an instructive element to it, that I was relearning or recalling old knowledge or skills I had. Like grabbing a bicycle after not riding it, I ‘remembered’ on a vague level of stuff rushing back to me.
What was this, the third? The fourth? My head swam, and I had a grim feeling somewhere in my mind it was much higher than that.
Maybe I had finally remembered simply by raw repetition of being unraveled. It appeared to be true what that girl named ‘Proud’ had claimed: I was stuck in a time fracture. Something at ReCorp had created a particle that was so destructive to our reality that either it or the universe somehow reverberated that destruction back into time to before it occurs to ensure it never actually occurs.
And according to Proud, I was the one who had to stop this. My stomach dropped; the universe was probably screwed.
At this point I was seriously trying to decide how many times had I ‘lived’ this day. I remembered the couple recent ones. But it seemed like the further back ‘times’ I remember, the vaguer they were. It was entirely possibly I had been through this a thousand, or a million times.
I got up and splashed some water on my face, helping remind me ‘this’ was real. I sat down against the wall, trying to think critically.
Last time I actually seemed to gleam a lot of information. I recalled the last loop in pretty good detail, but looking back on it, I knew things I should not have. There were a lot of things I remember personally saying I was not sure I might normally understand. I was accepting of a lot of Proud’s crazy ideas, and jumping to conclusions that did not necessarily follow. What this meant to me is that somehow I knew things I normally should not have. Maybe indeed I was many iterations into this fracture, and that knowledge was slowly accruing within my consciousness packets or whatever she said I had.
So, the question then was, when do I remember? Right now I was piecing a little together, but not to the extent I was talking to her last time. Wait….‘last time’ certainly isn’t the right word, but what else to call it?
I saw my white shirt on the desk and remembered her changing it to pink. Today was definitely a new cycle, but her show definitely had something important to it, I just could not grasp it yet. What did it mean that she could change a shirt, but I could not? There was something profound I was missing.
Sitting there holding the white shirt I was thinking of the people I ran into this day, and how any of them could possibly help me. One thing that was clear is that I seemed to only remember the most recent resets clearly. There was no telling how many I actually endured, I might be really early, or really far in. I’d have to keep that thought in mind.
There were a few major characters excluding Proud that stuck out and maybe had some clues for me. There was the bartender, either of the two guys I fought, that old man at the pit, and the android girl. They likely had some key to this.