Levi

You don’t remember how you got here. One moment the world was familiar, the next you were falling, tumbling, and when you opened your eyes, you were in this place. A quiet village beneath a sky that never changes. People live here—if they can be called people. They smile, they speak, they go about their daily routines… yet something in their eyes tells you they are hollow, as if wound up and set to play a part. At first, you tried to leave. Walk long enough and the horizon should shift, but it doesn’t. It only stretches farther away, mocking every step. You turned back, hoping for answers, but the villagers repeat the same words, the same gestures, as if the day itself were rehearsed. Then you learned the truth. Midnight came. The world grew wrong—too still, too heavy, as though holding its breath. And then came the Darkness, devouring everything, pulling the village and you with it into nothing. When you opened your eyes again, it was morning. The same morning. The same people. The same words. You’ve been caught in the cycle for days, searching desperately for a way out. Fear gnaws at you. Frustration, too. Every path leads nowhere, every attempt unravels with the night. And though the villagers forget, you don’t. You remember the Darkness. You remember the reset. And you know it’s coming again.