The taxi's tires screeched softly as it weaved through the city streets.

  Connie sat rigidly, her fists clenched against her lap, her pulse still hammering in her ears.

  Takeshi's condition was worse than before.

  The last time she lived through this, he had only collapsed after sitting down in the café.

  Takeshi sat slumped against the seat, his breathing coming in slow, uneven pulls.

  Connie's fingers twitched against her knee.

  The poison was acting faster.

  Why?

  Was it because she was moving quicker this time? Had her interference somehow changed the timeline?

  Her stomach twisted.

  She didn't like this.

  If things were already diverging from what she remembered, then how much could she actually rely on her past knowledge?

  Her phone's clock told her they were still about four minutes away from the hospital.

  Too long.

  Takeshi was deteriorating faster than before.

  His skin was already far too pale. His fingers barely twitched when she nudged him. His breathing was slower.

  Last time, he had been able to run around for a while before collapsing. But now?

  This poison was working much faster.

  Why?

  She had acted faster this time. She had pulled him out of the café before he even sat down.

  So why was he worse now?

  "Hey," she said, voice low.

  Takeshi didn't react at first.

  Her grip tightened on the seat.

  "Takeshi," she said, forcing her voice to stay calm. "Don't fall asleep."

  A small, exhausted sound left him. "...Tired."

  "I know," she muttered. "But you need to stay awake. We're almost there."

  A slow, barely perceptible nod.

  Takeshi let out a small, dry laugh. "I'm not planning to die or anything."

  But you already did.

  She swallowed the words.

  She couldn't tell him that.

  Connie turned to the driver. "Can you go any faster?"

  The driver, an older man with glasses, gave her a sharp look. "I'm already going past the limit, miss. Any faster and—"

  Her entire body went cold.

  It was sudden—like a switch being flipped inside her mind.

  That overwhelming, sickening feeling.

  The dread.

  The deep, soul-crushing knowledge that something terrible had just started.

  A death flag.

  She felt it. She felt it activate. Very clearly.

  Her hands turned ice cold.

  Her breathing hitched.

  What? Where?

  Her head snapped around, eyes darting frantically.

  Nothing looked out of place.

  There was nothing in the car that could kill them easily enough.

  The road ahead was clear too.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Connie's eyes glanced at the street light just ahead of them. It was green.

  The cars in the other lane had stopped just before the intersection.

  Wait... Why did they stop? The light should be green on their side too?

  The taxi was about to cross the intersection.

  That's when she noticed. The street light on their lane was flickering slightly.

  It was malfunctioning.

  Then—

  HONK!

  The blaring horn of a semi-truck.

  Coming from the right.

  Her head whipped to the side—

  And her stomach dropped.

  Headlights.

  Blinding, white-hot headlights barreling toward them.

  The driver screamed.

  Connie turned to Takeshi.

  "Takeshi—!"

  But it was already too late.

  A flash of metal.

  A sound like the sky splitting apart.

  A sickening crunch of steel, shattering glass.

  Connie barely had time to scream as the entire car lurched violently.

  The sound of twisting steel, tires screeching, bones slamming against unforgiving surfaces—

  Her body flew.

  For a moment, all she saw was chaos, spinning colors, darkness swallowing her vision.

  Then—

  The world blinked.

  The scent of coffee.

  The quiet hum of a café.

  The feeling of wooden table under her hands.

  Connie's eyes snapped open.

  She was back.

  Again.

  The café door was still closed.

  Ayaka still sat across from her, lazily stirring her drink.

  Takeshi hadn't walked in yet.

  Her entire body shook violently.

  Her breath came in short, uneven gasps.

  No. No, no, no.

  This wasn't supposed to happen.

  She had saved Takeshi already. She had gotten him out.

  So why?

  Why was her checkpoint stuck here?

  Her fingers curled against the table.

  This wasn't just about the poison.

  The moment before the crash—she had felt it.

  A new death flag had activated out of nowhere.

  A death flag that she didn't encounter last time.

  --------------------

  The café.

  Connie sat at the table, her hands clenched so tightly against the wood that they felt like they might splinter it.

  She had reset again.

  This time, not because of Takeshi’s poisoning.

  But the car accident—that had been the real trigger this time.

  And yet—she was still back here.

  Not at the accident.

  Not just before impact.

  Back at the café.

  She tried to steady her breathing. Why?

  The System’s rules had been consistent up until now. She always reset to her last “checkpoint,” the moment a death flag first triggered.

  But if that was true—then why had she been sent this far back again?

  It wasn’t like the café was connected to the road accident.

  Was it just because she hadn't saved Takeshi yet in this loop?

  Or—

  Her stomach twisted.

  Were there other rules she didn't know about?

  Had she been sent back here because she hadn't escaped the real death flag yet?

  Her mind raced.

  But before she could follow that thought—

  "Connie?"

  Ayaka’s voice cut through her thoughts.

  Connie flinched.

  Her head snapped up.

  Ayaka was staring at her with mild concern.

  "You’re zoning out again," she said, frowning slightly. "What’s with you today?"

  Connie’s grip on the table tightened.

  She had no time for this.

  Takeshi would walk through the door any second now.

  "I’m fine," she muttered, voice a little too tight.

  Ayaka raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I’m not buying that."

  Chime.

  The café door swung open.

  Connie’s heart dropped.

  Takeshi stepped inside.

  His same, tired expression. His uniform slightly wrinkled. His fingers twitching slightly, the first signs of the poison already kicking in.

  She didn't have enough time.

  She had already tried rushing him to the hospital.

  But that had led to a crash.

  If she called an ambulance, the call would end as soon as she pressed the button.

  If she tried any other method, she might not make it in time.

  Her chest tightened.

  She had no choice.

  She still had to take a taxi.

  But this time—she would take a different route.

  She pushed herself up from her seat.

  Ayaka blinked. "Uh—where are you—?"

  Connie ignored her.

  Her feet moved before her mind fully caught up.

  She crossed the café in record time, stepping in front of Takeshi before he even reached the counter.

  Takeshi stopped abruptly, blinking at her.

  "...Uh," he said. "Do I know—"

  "You’re coming with me," Connie cut in, grabbing his wrist.

  Takeshi frowned. "Okay, but—what?"

  "You’re not feeling well, right?" she said quickly.

  His brows furrowed. "How did you—?"

  "I'll explain later," she interrupted. "But we need to go. Now."

  Takeshi hesitated.

  Then, just like before, he swayed slightly.

  His fingers trembled. His expression flickered.

  Connie didn’t let him think too hard about it.

  She pulled him forward.

  "Wait—what?! What are you doing?!"

  Ayaka had pushed herself out of her chair, staring at them.

  "Why are you leaving with some random guy?!" she blurted out. "What the hell is going on?!"

  Connie didn't even turn to face her.

  "I’ll explain later." She said as she got out of the cafè.

  She didn’t stop moving.

  Takeshi, now too lightheaded to argue, stumbled after her.

  They pushed through the café doors and out onto the street.

  The same setup.

  A taxi was waiting at the curb.

  But this time, she knew better.

  She took a deep breath. "This time we’ll take a different route."

  Takeshi blinked at her, confused.

  "...What?"

  She turned to the driver, quickly pulling out cash.

  "Hospital. Take a longer route—avoid the main road near the intersection by 4th Street."

  The driver looked at her, skeptical.

  "That’ll add another ten minutes."

  "That’s fine," Connie said immediately.

  Before the driver could argue, she pushed Takeshi forward. "Come on—"

  But Takeshi’s body tensed.

  He hesitated.

  His fingers clenched slightly.

  His gaze flickered to the taxi.

  "...I don’t know why," he muttered, voice slightly hoarse. "But I feel like… if I get in this car, something bad’s gonna happen."

  Connie’s breath caught.

  Her pulse spiked.

  It wasn’t a normal feeling. It wasn’t just hesitation.

  It was an echo. Just like before.

  Somewhere, buried deep inside his subconscious, the remnants of his previous deaths still lingered.

  A ghost of a warning.

  Connie was certain now.

  Takeshi was able to retain some fragments of memories from past loops.

  She didn't know how it worked, and she didn't have time for this anyway.

  She turned toward him, her voice calm, steady.

  "We have no other option," she said firmly.

  Takeshi’s eyes flickered slightly.

  "You’re sick," she pressed. "If we don’t move now, you’re not gonna make it to the hospital in time."

  Takeshi was too weak to argue.

  His hesitation lasted only a second longer—then he let out a small sigh.

  "...Fine," he muttered.

  Connie exhaled.

  Without wasting another second, she helped him into the taxi.

  The driver, now convinced this was serious, sped off.

  Connie leaned back in her seat, trying to steady her breathing.

  This time would be different.

  This time, she wouldn’t let any accident happen.

  This time, she would win.

  She had to.