While Zekai's consciousness drifted elsewhere, Aron was still standing in the real world.
Aron stared at Zekai, panic clearly visible on his face. Blood dripped slowly from Zekai's nose—he hadn't even noticed.
"Your nose is bleeding… You don't look conscious. Mr. Zekai—wake up."
Aron didn't know what to do. His hands and legs refused to move. He stood there, trembling, muttering to himself as if he were completely stuck in place.
"Why are you looking at me like that…?" Aron's voice shook. "You're scaring me."
But Zekai couldn't respond. His soul was trapped inside the Fool's domain; only his physical body remained here.
Then, something else caught Aron's attention. The black stone cube in his hand began to glow faintly. This time—he could see it clearly.
The glow wasn't violent like the tarot's crimson pulse. It felt colder. Older. Like something that had been waiting quietly.
"What… is this?" he muttered under his breath. "Didn't Mr. Zekai mention this earlier…?"
Suddenly, he heard it. A strange sound. Not loud, but sharp. Like something rushing past his ears at high speed.
"What is that sound…?" he whispered.
Deciding to deal with the black stone cube later, he instinctively slipped it into his pocket. Before he could even process the noise, something slammed into the ground in front of him—hard.
BOOM!
A massive figure loomed through the dust. Blue flames leaked slowly from the cracks in its armor, seeping through the metal like something inside was desperately trying to escape. It had fallen from above without warning.
Aron froze completely, his eyes widening in fear.
The creature resembled a knight clad in blue and white armor, but its design felt ancient, closer to a fallen king than a soldier. Its helmet was shaped like a broken crown. Cracks ran through the metal, as if something had tried to tear it apart from the inside.
The flames pulsed faintly within those fractures, breathing in slow intervals like the armor itself was alive. Its eye sockets weren't dark—just hollow. In its hand was a long, dull-colored sword.
Aron's legs wouldn't move.
"What… is this now…?" he stammered. "What am I supposed to do…?"
Out of pure survival instinct, he turned toward Zekai and shouted, "Mr. Zekai—!"
Before he could finish, the creature moved. The attack had already targeted his head, but Aron stood there unaware, as if nothing had happened yet.
The blue flames flared for a split second, anticipating his movement rather than reacting to it. The sword swung. A streak of blue fire followed the blade, delayed by a fraction of a second, as if even the flames struggled to keep up with its speed.
The sound came first. Then—nothing.
There was no pain. Just a sudden silence, as if the world had been muted. His vision tore away from his body, spinning just long enough to see himself still standing.
'Ahhh—!'
He didn't see it move. Within the span of a blink, the only thing he heard was a wet sound. His head was already gone. Then his body collapsed, and darkness swallowed everything whole.
"...Huh?"
Aron suddenly returned—alive.
His head was still attached to his body, completely intact. He blinked in confusion, trying to process what he had just experienced. His breath came in sharp, uneven bursts, his heart pounding violently against his ribs.
"What just… happened?"
He immediately raised his hands and touched his neck in a panic, making sure it was still there.
"No… I just saw myself—"
The horrific thought didn't have time to fade. He turned slightly.
Aron looked down. The black stone cube in his pocket was faintly warm.
Zekai was still standing there, completely unresponsive. Before he could reason through it, that same sharp sound returned.
The noise didn't travel through the air; it appeared directly inside his ears. This time, it was clearer. Stronger.
Instinct seized his body. He didn't hesitate, even though he still didn't fully understand the mechanics of this nightmare. He realized something was fundamentally wrong.
So, the second time—he moved earlier.
It didn't matter. He grabbed Zekai's hand. He didn't know if this run would be the one that worked, or just another horrific death. His body moved before his fear could stop him.
"Run." No hesitation. "We need to get out of here."
Aron's hand tightened around Zekai's wrist, refusing to disappear alone. He pulled Zekai forward and started sprinting.
But it didn't matter. The knight appeared behind him instantly.
This time, unlike before, the King Knight simply watched Aron for a few seconds. What it intended to do next, Aron couldn't tell.
Slash.
Another wet sound. His throat burned—then nothing. The world snapped to black.
"…Again?"
Aron couldn't control his fear. His hands were shaking uncontrollably now, and his voice cracked in the dark.
"This isn't real… I died… twice… already…"
He could still feel the phantom pain lingering in his body. His mind refused to accept it, but his heartbeat said otherwise. Fast. Violent. Alive.
It was too real. The air felt significantly heavier this time.
The King Knight appeared again. No sound followed this time. The sound didn't come after the movement—it came before it.
The attack had already decided where to land before the blade even swung. The result came first; the strike merely followed. Even the blue flames didn't move naturally—they simply appeared where the strike had already been calculated.
Aron's breath hitched. The monster didn't track physical movement—it reacted to the user's raw intent of outcome-lock prediction.
"…It's faster."
Aron remembered the sequence perfectly. The same thing had already happened twice before. The King Knight closed the distance and swung its sword, aiming straight for his head.
Somehow, he had to dodge this attack and escape.
Without thinking, he dropped his weight instantly, crouching toward the stone floor.
The first swing whistled through the empty air above him. For a split second, he thought he had successfully dodged it.
But the King Knight didn't stop. In the same fluid motion, the blade adjusted its angle, redirecting mid-swing. Before Aron could react, the second strike landed. It didn't take his head this time.
The blade cut straight across his torso—clean and horizontal—splitting his body in two.
"No… it's predicting me."
Aron gasped violently as his vision snapped back. No matter how hard he tried to alter his path, the outcome remained absolute.
"The third time… the sound didn't come. It happened before I even moved."
His body was unharmed. This time, the terrifying truth finally clicked—this wasn't a dream.
"My throat burned… before the blade even touched me." Realization hit him instantly.
"Is this some kind of loop?"
The words didn't feel real when he muttered them. For a moment, his racing thoughts slowed down. Not because he was calm, but because a forgotten memory finally surfaced from his past.
Once upon a time, he was always the one left behind.
Not chosen. Not called. Not needed. When people ran, they never looked back for him. When things went wrong, he was the one who stayed behind—not because he was brave, but because no one noticed if he was gone.
His hands slowly curled into fists.
"...So it's the same again…" his voice came out low.
But this time, his eyes shifted toward Zekai. Still standing. Still unresponsive. A tight sensation gripped his chest.
Aron shook his head slightly. "No."
'Even if I disappear into nothingness... at least this time, someone will know I existed.'
This time, he wasn't the one being left behind. Zekai was. And Aron knew exactly how agonizing that felt. His fingers locked around Zekai's hand.
"...I won't let that happen again. I'm not leaving you here."
Even if this place resets. Even if he had to die again. His breathing steadied, just a fraction.
Even if the next second killed him again—and again, until his very soul broke into pieces.
"Mr. Zekai is still like this… how am I supposed to escape with him?" he whispered, clenching his jaw.
"Right now… there's only one thing that matters to me. If there's one person I refuse to leave behind… it's you."
Despite the horror of the loop, a small, stubborn spark of hope formed within Aron. This was a time loop. Death wasn't the end anymore—it was just another attempt. It was a puzzle.
He refused to loosen his hold. If he let go, Zekai might not come back in the next reset.
"Doesn't matter… I'll find a way," Aron whispered.
"Even if it kills us both. Just don't disappear before me."
He pulled Zekai's weight forward and forced his legs to run once more.
As Aron ran—Zekai's world had already moved on without him.
✦ End of Chapter 7 — The Kind One ✦