Florian's breath hitched as Heinz loomed over him, the glow of his crimson irises burning like embers in the dimly lit chamber. The flickering candlelight barely softened the sharp edges of his face, casting long, ominous shadows that stretched across the cold stone floor. The air itself felt suffocating—thick with something unseen, something heavy.
Something dangerous.
'How could this be happening?'
It wasn't supposed to be possible.
The realization struck him hard, like an iron fist tightening around his chest.
'Is Heinz… a regressor?'
His pulse pounded against his ears.
No. That can't be right. It shouldn't be right.
If Heinz had truly relived these events, that meant the past had already unfolded once before. That the horrors, the tragedies—the deaths—had already happened. But then… why was Aden here? How had he ended up inside this world? And more importantly—why was it different this time?
Nothing about this made sense.
