"The first time I've made it here?" Jude echoed, his voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes flicked back to the screen, to the version of himself that had broken free. A version that wasn't bound to the chair like he was now.
The man nodded. "Every iteration, you push a little further. Sometimes, you stop at the door. Sometimes, you leave before the truth sets in. But this time… this time is different."
Jude's heart pounded against his ribs. "Why?"
The woman's gaze was steady. "Because this time, you're listening."
A wave of nausea rolled over him. He had spent his life questioning reality in small, quiet ways, brushing off inconsistencies, ignoring the flickers at the edges of his vision, convincing himself that his own mind was the problem. But now, faced with undeniable proof, he realized that his instincts had been right all along.
Jude forced himself to take a deep breath. "Alright," he said, voice steadier than he felt. "How do I break the cycle?"
