?? Reset

  Chapter 2: The Defect

  Nagi stared in fascination at the house that, just a second ago, had been buried under debris and flames. Orange sparks still danced in his eyes, overlapping with the peaceful picture of the morning.

  (What does this mean?! How is this possible?!)

  Nagi took a sharp breath and, turning to the neighbor, shouted:

  — Are you mocking me? That house just burned to the ground!

  The villager merely smirked, giving the boy a condescending look:

  — Must’ve been a dream. I get it… Nightmares are pretty common in this heat.

  — A dream?! — Nagi snapped, raising his voice. — Are you blind? It was burning! I saw the bodies!

  A whisper crawled through the street. People stopped, eyeing the boy warily.

  “Has he lost his mind?”

  “Nagi’s completely cracked…”

  “Poor kid, he used to be so quiet.”

  Nagi’s father, drawn by the noise, hurried over and firmly grabbed his son by the shoulder.

  — What’s going on here? — he asked sternly.

  — Dad, the house! — Nagi pointed at the perfectly intact building. In his eyes burned a mad hope that at least the closest person would understand, would see this system error. But the answer was cold as ice:

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  — Nagi, I think you have a fever. Let’s go home.

  The world inside Nagi began to crumble.

  (What is he saying?.. This isn’t right! There’s something fundamentally wrong with this village!)

  He covered his face with his hands, trying to hide from the sideways glances and the impossible reality.

  | The timeline reset was successful. However, object #43 is behaving defectively. This may be a software malfunction… or simple delirium. |

  {The Creator prefers to use the term “Timeline.”}

  | I need to construct a new story. I’ll give them time. If people fail to create an interesting conflict on their own, I won’t reset anything… for now. |

  Two days passed. Nagi lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. His mother gently adjusted the damp cloth on his forehead.

  — What happened to you, my son? — she sighed softly.

  Drifting into a heavy haze, Nagi whispered the same words over and over:

  — That house… it was burning…

  | Exactly 48 hours have passed. Today’s main update: object #43 has suffered psychological trauma. How disappointing. He is clearly unworthy of being the hero of my story. |

  Nagi remained in isolation. His sister and parents came in, brought him food, but he barely reacted.

  (Why am I lying here? I have to prove it to them… But how, if the house is standing there untouched? Magic? An illusion? Or am I losing my mind?)

  His thoughts spun in circles until they formed a short, terrifying conclusion.

  — Maybe… it’s just an error… — he whispered into the emptiness.

  | A week has passed. No progress. The plot is stagnant. Boring. I want to reset everything again, but first… To find a true hero, I need great sacrifices. I will destroy this village beautifully. |

  The Creator raised his hand over the shimmering panel.

  | I will arrange total genocide. And let the executioner be that very “defective” object #43. |

  {He means Nagi.}

  Lying in bed, Nagi suddenly felt an icy, unnatural thirst for blood spreading through his veins. A чужое desire, becoming his own.

  (If they don’t believe me… if this world itself is just an error… then what’s the point of them living?)

  Nagi slowly stood up. His movements became precise and silent. He took a kitchen knife — the steel chilled his palm. Without a trace of hesitation, he dealt with his parents in the next room, then stepped outside. Like a shadow, he moved from house to house, leaving behind only silence and crimson trails.

  Hina was the last. She slept soundly, curled into a little ball. Nagi approached her bed and, staring at his sister’s peaceful face, drove the blade straight into her chest.

  — Sweet dreams, — he whispered, and there was not a single trace of the old Nagi in his voice.

  | Oh… now I feel satisfaction! A perfect bloody plot! No interference! I definitely like this. Well then… |

  The Creator took a deep breath and pressed the RESET button.

  — This timeline was curious, but I’m sure I can squeeze out even more drama.

  The world flashed and instantly reassembled. Nagi felt a spike of pain pierce his head. When his vision cleared, he froze. He was standing in Hina’s room. His arms were covered in blood up to the elbows, a knife clenched in his hand. The girl was quietly breathing in her bed — alive and unharmed.

  Nagi dropped the knife. The clang of steel against the floor sounded like a funeral march. He ran out of the house without seeing where he was going.

  (What have I done?! Why… why hasn’t the blood disappeared?!)

  He collapsed beneath a tree on the edge of the forest, frantically trying to smooth his disheveled hair.

  — What’s wrong with me?.. — he forced out, staring at his trembling, red-stained hands.