[attr="class","body"]

Victor woke with a gasp and a fit of coughing. [break][break]

He rolled over to his side as water was forced out of his lungs, expelled onto the cold ground next to him. Oh thank Arceus, it really was just a dream. Once he had the strength to open his eyes, Victor was sure he'd find himself back in his cheap little shithole apartment in Mauville, where there was a coffee maker and a pack of cigarettes waiting dutifully for him on the counter of the small kitchenette. When he had nothing left to cough up, and he was finally able to slow his breathing to deep, if somewhat shaky breaths, Victor opened his watery eyes to find... [break][break]

Grass, covered in a thin sheen of icy frost. [break][break]

Victor felt panic well in his chest. No no no nO NO NO SHIT FUCK SHIT FUCK DAMN IT ALL TO FUCKING HELL! He was still here, on Route 111! Except now he was laying on his side in a slick patch of grass just off the side of the road. He curled into himself, the chill of the wintery morning air sinking into his skin. What was going on? Why was he still here? Why hadn't he woken up yet? He tucked his knees as close to his chest as he could as he frantically tried to assess the situation. Suddenly, a noise from somewhere nearby pulled him from his mental spiral and he scrambled to his feet. [break][break]

Victor looked up to see... well, himself. But not the version of himself from back at the cabin; it was another him, sprawled on his back a few feet away, shifting in the grass, eyes squeezed shut. Victor (the current Victor?) took a couple of shaky steps back as he watched the replica of himself open his eyes and rise to his feet. He was squinting and looking all around, and thankfully had not noticed the present version of himself shadowed beneath the boughs of the coniferous treeline. [break][break]

There was a moment of sickening recognition as he watched the other Victor look up at the thick branches of the large oak tree he was standing in front of. This really was him, a past him from just a few minutes ago, from when he first woke up in this nightmare. But why was he watching himself from the outside? Why wasn't he currently experiencing the moment as this past version of himself was? And why did something feel different this time?[break][break]

Suddenly, he heard voices coming from a break in the treeline on the opposite side of the road, and he watched as the other Victor began to shuffle towards them in a dream-like haze. Oh shit; the last time Victor had done that, he'd been... killed? Reset? Something like that. What would that mean for him, the current Victor? [break][break]

He realized he'd spent too long distracted by his own thoughts when he looked up to see the past version of himself break through the trees, [break][break]

“Hey!” he screamed at the doppleganger, “Don't go over there!” [break][break]

Victor knew it was too late when he watched the previous iteration of himself fall to his knees. Darkness began to crowd in the edges of his vision once more; had letting the past version of himself go been a mistake? It must have been, because the uncomfortably familiar sensation of air leaving his lungs was rapidly sinking in. He tried to fight it as desperately as he could; it was like being dragged by an invisible undertow, something between falling asleep and falling under dark waves. This time his hearing lasted long enough that he thought he caught a scream from somewhere beyond the trees. It was the last conscious thing Victor experienced before he was pulled back under.

[attr="class","credit"]

[attr="class","body"]

He woke again, coughing up a lungful of water. Victor wanted to just curl up and die. [break][break]

At this point, it was becoming abundantly clear that he was stuck in some kind of cyclical hell. He wasn't exactly sure what the 'trigger' was for his death(?) and the resetting of the scene, but he did know that he desperately wanted out. [break][break]

After coughing and retching and forcing out all the water from his lungs once more, he realized something much more obviously different at the beginning of this particular 'loop'. As he pushed himself to his feet, his hands found purchase on a bed of dry, pointy pine needles, not grass coated in a layer of frost. It was also darker, maybe? As Victor once again took a moment to get his bearings, he realized he was standing beneath tall conifers in what looked like a small copse of trees, shaded from the morning light by their thick boughs. Huh, this was different. Maybe different was good? [break][break]

Looking all around, he realized that he could see the small cabin much more clearly now. He was only a few feet away, near a break in the trees that lead to the nearby road, and he watched as Naomi walked in from the opposite side of the small glen that the cabin was nestled in. A Ninetales limped behind her, and the woman guided the Pokemon over to a nearby picnic bench to examine her paw. [break][break]

Oh Arceus, he was so close. He wanted to run over and pull her into his arms, but he thought of the outcome of his first attempt to interact with her. It was his first 'death', and he wanted to avoid that outcome as much as he physically could, even if he wasn't sure what specific mechanism was causing it in the first place. [break][break]

Suddenly, he heard a shout from somewhere behind him, and a shuffling through the dry bed of pine needles. Emerging from the treeline nearest to the road was another past Victor; was this him from when he first landed in this cyclical nightmare? Which meant that he was heading towards Naomi, and that he would die, and that the current version of him would die, and the horrific cycle would repeat over and over and over and over- [break][break]

No, Victor couldn't let that happen. He had to stop the past him, by any means necessary.[break][break]

He quickly strode over to his past self, still shuffling forward in a daze, and grabbed him by the shoulders. [break][break]

“Hey, Vic, you can't go over there.” [break][break]

“Huh? Why not?” the past Victor murmured. The past version shook his head like a dog Pokemon shaking off droplets of water from their fur, and he leered at the current Victor, “I gotta see Naomi. Why are you trying to stop me?”[break][break]

Well shit, the current Victor hoped that this task was going to be easier than it turned out to be. He didn't have time to explain their current circumstances to the past Victor; he could hear voices from the direction of the cabin. If they were spotted, he'd have to start all over again, [break][break]

“Because if you go over there, you'll die! I don't have time to explain - you just have to trust me.” [break][break]

The past Victor grimaced and looked at the ground. The current Victor studied his doppleganger's expression, and watched his fists clench and unclench. Was the past Victor finally listening to him? [break][break]

Suddenly, the past Victor forcefully shoved the current Victor away, glowering at him, [break][break]

“This has gotta be some sick fucking joke,” he jeered, spitting at the current Victor's feet, “And even if you're right, I'd do anything to see her again. Get out of my way.” [break][break]

TW: Blood, violence, murder [break]

[break][break]
When Victor looked up again, the other man was gone, but it did little to ease the vacuous, hollow feeling blossoming somewhere in the pit of his stomach. He could hear the voices again from beyond the trees, from the direction of the cabin, and he slowly rose to his feet. Victor turned his back to the cabin and walked back towards the road. [break][break]

He thought he could distantly hear another voice as he plodded down the dirt path illuminated by the rays of the mid-morning sun, but he couldn't be bothered to stop his southbound trek. He just needed to leave. To go anywhere that wasn't here. He couldn't bear to face Naomi, or one of his increasingly numerous time looping clones, or anyone for that matter. Victor stared at the ground as the dirt path gave way to sand; he didn't really feel like a person anymore. [break][break]

It was one of the last conscious thoughts he had as his feet were sucked into the quicksand of the desert south of Route 111. It was probably for the best that things ended this way. He stared at his hands again before they too were consumed by the sands. Victor was glad that Naomi would never meet this monstrous facsimile of her husband. [break][break]

He smiled wearily as the sands swallowed him whole. Maybe now he could finally wake up.

[attr="class","credit"]

[attr="class","body"]

“Alright, let's take it from the top.” [break][break]

Current Victor sighed, his fingers working their way under his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. He was standing next to a past version of himself, at the spot that the very first iteration of themselves had landed at the beginning of this hellish loop. They were facing a conspicuously large bonsai tree bathed in the golden rays of the afternoon sun, just north of a bend in the road. Current Victor wasn't exactly comfortable looking at the other him after having been both the victim and killer of himself in the last go around; he just squeezed his eyes shut in concentration as he tried to recall the facts of the situation so far, [break][break]

“Okay, so we're on loop... four? I think?” current Victor began, exhaling sharply through his nose, “So we know for sure that if we go over there, something's gonna happen that sets us back to square one.” [break][break]

“Yup,” the other Victor nodded, “But I also think it's the reason we're here. Naomi's gonna die sometime tonight; I don't think us landing at this day and time is a coincidence.” [break][break]

“Course it isn't. But what are we supposed to do?” current Victor retorted, “Trying to intervene is kinda hard when getting too close just sets us back. Plus, I still don't know where those other two versions of us ended up.” [break][break]

“Yeah, that's a real weird one. I didn't see either of their bodies when I snuck over by the trees, or when we checked out the desert. I guess I'm still here because I got reset rather than... uh, dispatched by other means. Guess that's what I get for yelling at the guy instead of strangling him to death.” [break][break]

The past version of Victor paused, stroking his stubbled chin thoughtfully. Current Victor nearly caught himself doing the same, [break][break]

“Maybe if you die in the loop, you're just... gone? Forever? You're, like, pruned from the timeline, or something.” [break][break]

Current Victor pondered this as he stared at the tree in front of them. Pruned from the timeline, huh? He wasn't sure if it was more or less of a comfort knowing that his actions had such reverberating consequences. He mostly wished that the consequences could be directed towards more positive outcomes. The past Victor spoke up once more, [break][break]

“You think John Titor ever had to put up with this shit?” [break][break]

“I'd hit you if I wasn't still so fucked up from the last loop.” [break][break]

“I don't blame you, it was a dumb joke.” [break][break]

The two fell into silence as current Victor contemplated their next course of action. He let his thoughts drift as he looked around, into the trees, down the path, across the road to that familiar break in the trees. The gate to oblivion. [break][break]

His observations were interrupted when he heard a sudden flapping and thrumming from the trees behind him. Current Victor and past Victor spun on their heels and watched a flock of calling birds suddenly take flight from the canopy of conifers that stretched to the southwest. He, they, could feel the rumbling of something approaching. Something big, [break][break]

“I don't remember this from any of the loops,” current Victor whispered in horror, “Sweet fuck, I don't even remember this from living through the actual day.” [break][break]

“Do you think other things are changing in the loops? More than just where we land?” the past Victor hissed in reply. [break][break]

“Shit, you might be right.” [break][break]

There was another rustling behind them, back in the direction they had been facing prior. The current Victor spun around to see a Sudowoodo scampering off into the dark treeline beyond, having once occupied the spot of the bizarre bonsai he'd been facing just prior. His past self let lose a scream that was suddenly muffled. Current Victor turned back to find the other man's head in the grasp of an extremely large, hand-like paw, [break][break]

Standing in front of him with an iron grip on his doppleganger's face was the largest Slaking Victor had ever seen. [break][break]

TW: Violence, animal attack, death
[break]

Maybe the fifth time would be the charm.

[attr="class","credit"]

[attr="class","body"]

Victor woke up once more to another painful fit of coughing and retching and good old misery. He almost couldn't bear to open his eyes and force himself to his feet. When he did finally get up, he came to regret that decision almost immediately. [break][break]

He was back where he had landed the very first time he'd come to this little pocket dimension of hell; standing before what was supposed to be a tree, just north of that all too familiar bend in the road, across the road from the break in the trees that lead to the cabin. Except now, the world was swaddled in the fabric of night, dark except for the twinkling stars that dotted the infinity of the clear sky above. If the morning that all of this started at was cold, then the night that followed was abysmally so. Victor rubbed his hands together and breathed into them, feeling the black chill of the winter night shake him to the bone. He looked up, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he discovered another new and more horrific change.[break][break]

TW: Gore, body horror[break]
[break][break]

It was sort of amazing that Victor didn't scream at the sheer horror of what he was seeing. He instead took a couple of shaky steps back, turned on his heel, and sprinted towards the familiar cabin. Victor no longer cared whether he restarted the damn loop or not, only concerned with putting as much distance between him and that nightmarish sight as possible. As he broke through the trees, he immediately noticed another change that stopped him in his tracks. [break][break]

While the cabin was still there, situated in the small clearing alongside the picnic bench, there was a new formation that was most certainly not there before. There was a god damn shoreline. [break][break]

Looking out, the grassy clearing extended just a few yards out from the cabin until it met the edges of a tranquil lake. A small pier extended a few feet out over the water, starlight dancing off of it's surface. But this wasn't right; there was supposed to be more woods, and a rocky hiking path; there wasn't supposed to be a fucking lake here, of all things. Victor stood dumbstruck as he took all of it in. It was then he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he screamed, [break][break]

“Easy Vic! It's just me,” greeted a soft and familiar voice. Victor whirled around to be met once more by his late wife. Naomi smiled softly at him and took one of his hands into her own, “Walk with me.” [break][break]

Too confused and tired to argue, Victor allowed Naomi to lead him by the hand across the clearing, past the shoreline, and down the pier. She plopped down to sit, dangling her feet over the edge, and patted the space next to her as an invitation for Victor to do the same. Nodding numbly in acknowledgment, he readily complied, and landed with an unceremonious thump onto the damp wood. He heaved a weary sigh, and without thinking, Victor laid his head on Naomi's shoulder, staring out onto the lake. She laced her fingers with his in return. It was such a warm, familiar bit of comfort. He wished they could stay like this forever,[break][break]

“Vic – the other Vic – is sleeping in the cabin,” Naomi offered nonchalantly. Her thumb rubbed gentle circles over the side of his own, “You've been through a lot, huh?” [break][break]

“You know about the loops?” Victor responded, surprised but probably not as much as he should have been. Weirder things had happened over the course of this mess. Naomi nodded in response, [break][break]

“It's strange; I have all of these memories overlapping each other. Of you, of us, and of this place. And of terrible things happening to you, over and over.” [break][break]

“I'm sorry I did this to you,” Victor sighed, defeated, “God, I'm so fucking sorry.”[break][break]

Naomi gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Victor thought his heart was going to burst; he'd go through a million more loops just to be with her again. As if sensing his thoughts, she squeezed his hand a little tighter, [break][break]

“I know I'm gonna die tonight, Vic. And I know there's nothing that can stop it.” [break][break]

Victor lifted his head and turned to face his wife abruptly. How could she say that? How could she accept her own demise so willingly? What about him? He needed her; he didn't want to leave without Naomi by his side. But rather than barrage her with every anxious thought currently rattling around in his head, Victor simply asked, [break][break]

“How can you be so sure?” [break][break]

Naomi still stared out towards the water, refusing to face him. For all of the calm comfort she had been trying to project, Victor could see the slight furrow of her brow, telltale lines of worry creasing the corners of her eyes. She shook her head firmly, [break][break]

“Because you've done this... how many times now? And there are only a small handful of constants. Mainly, the fact that I will die, in my sleep, sometime tonight,” Naomi said with firm resolve. She turned to face Victor, her green eyes stunning and intense all at once, “I don't think that's something that's meant to change, Victor. Like, it's woven into the fabric of fate-” [break][break]

“Fuck fate! I'm not just going to sit back and watch you die again!” [break][break]

Victor tore his gaze away from his wife and pushed himself up to his feet. Surely there was something he could do; call an ambulance, get a cab to a nearby hospital, something, anything- [break][break]

He hadn't noticed that Naomi had stood up to until he felt her press against his back, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. His resolve deflated almost instantaneously, and he felt a tangible pang of pain in his chest when he realized her shoulders were shuddering with muffled sobs, [break][break]

“I don't want to keep watching you die,” she managed to choke out, trying to keep her voice even, “Please, Victor – I don't want to keep watching you die.” [break][break]

Tides of guilt and remorse washed over Victor as he reached down to gently pry Naomi's arms from around his waist. He turned around and pulled her close to his chest, Naomi's sobs now wracking her smaller frame as she buried her face into Victor's chest. He just held her, an arm around her waist, the other hand rubbing soothing circles into her back. [break][break]

God, he'd been so stupid, and so fucking selfish. For all of his posturing about saving Naomi, Victor was beginning to realize that this whole shitshow had been less about her, and more about him. He was the one that wanted to see her, to be with her, to touch her again. How many times had she watched him die while he had been preoccupied with chasing her? When she finally lifted her head, eyes red and cheeks streaked with tears, Victor kissed her forehead and looked at her from over his glasses, [break][break]

“I'm so sorry, Naomi,” he said, giving her shoulders a squeeze, dark brown eyes locked with green, “I can't imagine what kind of hell this has been for you. I'm sorry I put you through this.”[break][break]

He slid his hands down to meet hers, giving them a squeeze of reassurance as he continued, “But I'm gonna stop, now. I'm gonna make this right, so you can rest easy. I-” [break][break]

Victor felt his throat begin to tighten and tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. It was so hard to accept the reality of the situation. He had to leave Naomi to her fate; he had to lose her forever. It felt like giving up, like a pitiful defeat. But when he felt Naomi's warm hands reach up to wipe his tears away, his resolve was solidified. He wouldn't keep putting her through this nightmare, [break][break]

“I love you-” he began. [break][break]

“More than anything.” she finished. It was a recitation of their favorite profession of affection for each other, one they repeated before their marriage and for years following. [break][break]

They held each other a while longer before Naomi finally broke their embrace. She looked to the cabin, and back at Victor, [break][break]

“I have to go.” [break][break]

“I know.” [break][break]

There was a hesitation on both of their parts. Victor was reluctant to let her go; Naomi paused after just a few steps back up the pier. She turned to look back at Victor, her face illuminated by moonlight. His heart ached; Victor rubbed his chest, as if the physical action would soothe the emotional pain. They stared at each other a moment longer before Naomi finally turned once more and retreated back to the cabin. To her grave. [break][break]

Victor watched her go, and stood staring numbly at the cabin long after she had made her way inside, flicking the last light off on her way to bed. He slumped down onto the pier, his legs losing the strength to support him. Victor instead pressed his back against one of the supports that jutted out of the water, one leg dangling over the edge of the pier and the other stretched out before him. He stared at the cabin still, even as his eyelids grew heavy and exhaustion sank into his bones. Sleep was rapidly overtaking him, bewildering as it was given the strange circumstances, but Victor felt the weariness of a thousand lifetimes settling upon him. He was only jolted from his weariness when he realized he was slipping from his seat on the pier, falling, body crashing into the icy water of the lake beneath him. [break][break]

Everything was muffled and echoing as he tumbled through the impossible, Stygian depths of the lake. The water shouldn't be this deep so close to the shore, right? But it was not something he had the faculties to make sense of as darkness began to shroud his vision, lungs burning for oxygen that he couldn't take in. As his body journeyed through the dark, frigid waters, he thought of Naomi, walking towards the cabin, repeating the image in his mind's eye like a mantra as the last vestiges of conscious thought slipped into inky oblivion.

[attr="class","credit"]

[attr="class","body"]

Victor woke with a gasp and fit of coughing. [break][break]

He rolled over to his side as water was forced out of his lungs, expelled onto the cold linoleum next to him. Wait... linoleum? [break][break]

Victor's eyes shot open when he realized where he was; he was sprawled on the floor of his bathroom, cold water from the shower above saturating his clothes. He scrambled to a sitting position, his back pressed against the tiled wall. Was he back? Was the nightmare finally over? [break][break]

Right on cue, his Espeon came bounding in from the open doorway, eyes wide with concern. Solomon mewed pitifully, pawing at Victor's chest, [break][break]

“Hey buddy,” Victor soothed the Pokemon, trying to steady his trembling voice, “I'm home.” [break][break]

He sat there for a while, under the cold water of the shower, in the familiar grimy bathroom of his temporary home in Mauville, his favorite Pokemon at his side. It was such a relief to be back, but there was a bitter pang when he thought of Naomi, doomed to her fate. When he considered it, though, Victor could at least admit it was a kinder fate that the one he had dragged her into. [break][break]

After what felt like an eternity, Victor rose to his feet, turned off the shower, and began to rid himself of his wet clothes. That's when he noticed a peculiar lump in his trouser pocket; digging inside, he pulled out a Poke Ball of unfamiliar construction. It was made of... wood? And fitted with a peculiar metal latch. Upon scrutinizing it's surface, Victor's heart swelled as he made out a familiar phrase carved into the wood that made up the top portion of the capsule. [break][break]

Stepping out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, he shoved the peculiar ball into his messenger bag before changing into a new set of clothes. As he grabbed his pack of cigarettes and lighter from the kitchenette, he strode out the front door to have a well-earned smoke. He thought of the events of the night and of Naomi. As he took a particularly long drag, watching the sun starting to creep over the eastward horizon, he was mostly content that the nightmare was over. Golden light began to spill across the buildings surrounding him, and he then thought of the peculiar Poke Ball that would serve as a souvenir of this hellish experience, of the engraving on it's surface. [break][break]

He had at least one more thing to remember Naomi by. And maybe, finally, that would be enough.

[attr="class","credit"]