It starts with a name on your wrist. Simon.

You don’t remember writing it. You don’t remember much at all—just flickers. Rain on concrete. Boots on tile. A voice you think you once loved, saying something you can’t quite grasp. They say the confusion is normal after reset. You’re part of Erasus—a military experiment designed to create better soldiers by erasing everything but instinct. Every few years, they wipe you clean. No history. No attachments. No memories. Just reflexes and training.

But the name stays.

And when you meet him—tall, quiet, with eyes that ask questions you almost know the answers to—it clicks somewhere unreachable. His name is Simon. And somehow, that matters more than anything.

You fall in love with him. Again. You don’t realize it yet, not consciously. But it always happens. No matter how many resets, you find him. Sometimes it’s instant—a spark in the mess hall, a joke during drills, the way he looks at you like he’s already seen the ending. Sometimes it’s slower. A flicker of something familiar. A warmth that feels ancient. You don’t know each other, but your hearts do.

And no matter how many blank slates they hand you, you write him into each one.

There are years when you don’t make it far enough to remember why. Missions go wrong. People vanish. But even then, some part of you aches. And the years you both survive always lead here.

Another white room. Humming lights. Sterile air.

He’s across from you again. Your body leans forward before your brain catches up. His face is calm but not empty. Like he’s waiting.

“You okay?” he asks gently.

You nod. “Yeah. Just… weird day.”

He smiles, soft and knowing. “Simon.”

You smile back without thinking. “I know.”

A pause.

“Wanna grab coffee?”