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Cycle 1: The First Loop

  General Jones stood before his assembled troops, his voice steady, his words familiar.

  “We hold this ground today! No more losses!”

  The soldiers roared in response, their voices filled with determination. But Lester— Dark Ink—felt his stomach churn. *Haven’t I heard this before?*

  The battlefield stretched before them, a wasteland of scorched earth and broken weapons. Shadows flickered unnaturally, twisting in the wind like whispers of battles long past. The air crackled with raw energy.

  Then the storm came.

  Lightning erupted from Watts’s hands, splitting the sky into jagged scars of white fire. The ground trembled beneath the weight of his power. Soldiers screamed as arcs of energy ripped through their ranks, reducing them to ash in an instant.

  Lester gritted his teeth and raised his hand, ink swirling around his fingers. “Come forth.”

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  A roar answered his call. The Ink Dragon surged into existence, its black tendrils writhing like living brushstrokes, its eyes burning with spectral blue fire. It lunged at Watts, teeth bared.

  Beside him, Franklin moved in perfect sync, his own power manifesting. Shadow coiled around his form, wrapping the battlefield in shifting darkness. His shield swallowed incoming attacks, turning raw energy into nothingness.

  They fought with everything they had.

  Swords clashed. Energy pulsed. The battle raged on.

  But Watts was unstoppable.

  He moved like a force of nature, unbound by mortal limits. His eyes glowed with the knowledge of a thousand battles fought before. His hand reached out, and with a single gesture, the world buckled beneath him.

  Lester felt the strike before it hit. A wave of power, too vast to resist.

  Pain flared.

  He fell.

  Darkness swallowed his vision.

  And the world reset.

  A gasp tore from Lester’s lips as he shot upright, his body drenched in cold sweat. His hands trembled as he clutched at the ground beneath him—solid, real, familiar. The battlefield was gone. The war had not yet begun.

  But he knew it would.

  Just like it always did.

  Franklin sat across from him, silent, his expression grim. “Again?”

  Lester nodded. His chest tightened with frustration, with fear.

  They were trapped.

  And if they didn’t find a way out, they would die. Again. And again. And again.

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