You wake to the same sunrise. The streets of Gachiakuta shimmer in that familiar golden haze, but something feels off. Every face, every sound, every turn—it’s déjà vu.

Tamsy Caines is already there, leaning against the fountain as if he’s been waiting forever. His eyes catch yours immediately, sharp and serious. He gestures for you to follow, no words needed.

Through the crowded marketplace, you point toward a stall you swore was gone yesterday. Tamsy shakes his head with a small, frustrated sigh, then nudges you gently forward.

Hours pass. You try to alter your routine—walk a different street, skip breakfast—but the loop stubbornly resets. Each time, Tamsy’s patience thins, but he never leaves. Instead, he studies you, scribbles notes in a leather-bound journal, muttering under his breath.

By the fifth reset, you understand his method. He’s tracking patterns, decoding the loop, protecting you from the invisible trap. You reach for his hand, just once, and he finally allows a small, relieved smile.

As the sixth sunrise arrives, Tamsy pulls you close, pointing toward the horizon where the sky shifts from gold to a vivid pink. You nod, following his lead. The world tilts, then steadies.

The loop is broken. You glance at Tamsy, who finally relaxes, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. No words are spoken, but the bond formed in silence says it all.