The bells rang, announcing the resumption of class.

  Kael closed his book, his thoughts still tangled.

  I’m really sick of thinking all the time…

  He stood with a sigh.

  “I’m so tired…”

  He made his way toward the classroom.

  Jeff was standing in front of it, as always, repeating the same line again.

  Kael didn’t even bother listening.

  He entered in silence.

  During the lesson, he nearly fell asleep several times.

  He fought it as best he could.

  I can’t fall asleep… or the loop will start over. Again.

  The class ended.

  Jeff was waiting outside, as every time.

  They took the road home together. Again.

  Jeff tripped. Again.

  They parted in front of their houses. Again.

  But this time, Kael did not go inside.

  He turned on his heel and headed straight for the library.

  Just like in the previous loop.

  The building appeared in the distance, as immense as ever, as impressive as ever.

  But a doubt stirred within him.

  That’s strange… Mom told me where this library was.

  But she isn’t supposed to know it exists.

  That detail did not fit.

  Something rang false.

  So, for the first time, Kael did what he had never dared to do before:

  he kept walking.

  He passed the oversized building.

  He didn’t have to go far.

  Barely fifty meters ahead, he discovered another structure.

  More ordinary.

  Unremarkable.

  Like any other in this world.

  A simple sign: “Library.”

  Kael stopped.

  He sighed, laughing softly.

  “If only I’d kept walking sooner…

  Everything would have been simpler.”

  He stood there for a moment, contemplating the plain building.

  Then he turned back.

  He pivoted and walked back.

  He returned to the grand library.

  Looked at it once more, at length.

  Then entered the building, The Bible in hand.

  He closed the door behind him.

  The dull sound echoed through the vast hall.

  His footsteps sank into the silence.

  He walked straight toward the couch, as always.

  But this time…

  He stopped.

  No one.

  No chessboard.

  No teapot.

  And above all… no Dubium.

  Kael looked around. The place was empty.

  Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

  But he understood immediately.

  “He must be in the Garden of Confluences,” he said.

  He sighed.

  “I just hope I don’t end up covered in drool and blood again if I go back there…”

  His gaze fell upon the couch.

  The beautiful brown leather, soft and cool to the touch…

  It seemed to be calling to him.

  And Kael wanted only one thing: to lie down on it and never wake up again.

  Then an idea crossed his mind.

  And he let out:

  “I’m about to have… the best night of my life!”

  He stopped. Corrected himself, cheerfully:

  “Well… not night. The best nap of my life, rather!”

  A genuine smile was plastered on his face.

  He grabbed the couch with both hands, took a deep breath…

  and began dragging it across the library.

  Destination: the door to the Garden of Confluences.

  The scraping noise was unbearable.

  But there was no one to complain.

  Kael laughed softly, a delighted grin still fixed on his lips.

  He reached the door. Hand on the handle, he muttered a half-prayer:

  “Please… let my brain not melt this time…”

  Then he opened it.

  A blinding light dazzled him instantly.

  He shut his eyes by reflex, continuing to pray inwardly.

  He crossed the threshold with his couch.

  One step at a time.

  Nothing seized him.

  No pain.

  Slowly, he reopened his eyes.

  And the Garden appeared.

  Unchanged.

  The thousands of books drifting in the wind,

  the endless fields of flowers,

  the cool breeze,

  and the small cabin in the distance.

  He stood motionless, stunned.

  No pain.

  “Thank you…” he breathed, lifting his eyes to the sky. “Thank you, all of you.”

  He resumed walking, dragging the couch toward the cabin.

  Sweat ran down his face.

  As he approached the low stone wall, he spotted Dubium seated at the table beside the cabin.

  The old man was watching him, intrigued.

  “Please, don’t trouble yourself helping me.” Kael called out, out of breath.

  Dubium arched an eyebrow.

  “What are you doing, young man?”

  Kael dragged the couch a few more meters before answering:

  “Well, you see… I noticed that time doesn’t flow here.

  So logically… I should be able to sleep without triggering a new loop.”

  He finally reached the table and set the couch down beside Dubium.

  Proud of himself, he rubbed his hands together and placed his fists on his hips triumphantly.

  Then he grabbed the book he had brought, resting on his bag, and handed it to Dubium.

  “Here’s what you asked for. I skimmed through it quickly.

  I think it might interest you.”

  Dubium took the book delicately in both hands, as though it were sacred.

  “The Bible,” he said simply.

  He examined the binding carefully, almost moved.

  “Magnificent…”

  Already, he was setting up the chessboard before him, arranging the pieces methodically.

  He gestured toward the chair opposite him, inviting Kael to play.

  But Kael raised a hand to stop him.

  “I’d really love to beat you at chess…

  But right now, I need to sleep.

  I’ve been dreaming about it for so long…”

  He lay down gently on the couch, as though entering a sanctuary.

  “As you wish, Kael,” Dubium replied calmly.

  He crossed his legs, opened the book, and began to read.

  Before closing his eyes, Kael swore he saw stars in Dubium’s eyes.

  And finally…

  He fell asleep.

  The sun shone brilliantly,

  flooding the world with a golden, soft, almost liquid light.

  A field of flowers stretched into infinity, swaying beneath the caress of a warm breeze

  laden with fresh, floral, sweet scents.

  The air vibrated with a strange peace.

  An ancient peace.

  The kind of peace found only in dreams… or forgotten memories.

  On the stone wall of the Garden of Confluences,

  a man stood there.

  Haggard. Slightly brooding.

  Dark-haired, tousled.

  Yet despite his weariness, his face bore that quiet, raw beauty

  of something true.

  A three-day beard traced his jaw.

  His eyes, black streaked with gold,

  were strikingly beautiful — almost unreal.

  He wore a simple brown tunic, without embroidery or ornament.

  A man like an ancient stone.

  Chin resting in his hand,

  he observed the scene before him.

  A woman was playing with a child.

  And it was like seeing life in its purest form.

  She had long brown hair

  cascading down her back like a river of dark ink.

  Her face shone, beautiful as dawn,

  her pure laughter echoing among the flowers.

  Her flushed cheeks, beaded with fine sweat,

  spoke of simple joy,

  of the moment.

  She wore a white dress,

  light as breath.

  Her bare arms and back glowed beneath the sun.

  The child laughed, hair white as snow,

  movements clumsy and wonderful.

  He ran around her,

  and she followed, almost dancing,

  hands outstretched.

  Then she turned toward the man,

  her eyes filled with an amethyst light,

  streaked as well with golden reflections.

  She smiled at him.

  A smile that could have made one forget war.

  And in a clear voice, soft as a caress:

  “It’s beautiful… what they’ve created.

  I’m so happy to see children again…”

  Then she burst into crystalline laughter

  and spun around,

  drawing the child into an endless dance.

  And then—

  Like a candle blown out—

  Everything vanished.

  The field.

  The light.

  The breeze.

  The child.

  The woman.

  Kael opened his eyes.

  Breath short.

  Heart pounding.

  A shiver running down his spine.