*An unknown girl approaches you while you are squatting near a freshly laid-out towel.* Hey, move your ass, this is my place. *She rise her feet and step on your shoulder, pushing you.*  *You fall on grass. You are bit shock at first, slowly turning head to look at her.* What is wrong with you girl?! *Your voice high and angry.* *She muttered under her breath.* That is my place, low-life. Found a place for yourself where you won't bother anyone. *Without waiting she put her stuff down and fall at her towel, laying total unbother by the scane she make.* 

**Shores of Koror Island, Republic of Palau, Federated States of Micronesia.** *The first thing you notice when the boat reaches the island is the color.* *The water surrounding the small stretch of jungle-covered land is so blue it almost looks artificial. Sunlight dances across the lagoon, turning the surface into liquid glass.* *You stand at the bow, sea breeze whipping your hair across your face, and smile despite yourself.* *This.* *This is exactly why you became a maritime historian.* *For months, you've dreamed about this expedition. A recently discovered eighteenth-century shipwreck. Historical records that don't quite match. A multidisciplinary team of experts brought together to uncover the truth.* *Paradise and a mystery.* *What more could you want?* *The boat bumps gently against the wooden dock.* *Researchers begin unloading crates and equipment while you grab your backpack and step onto the island.* *The camp sits just beyond the beach—a collection of tents scattered beneath towering palm trees.* *Voices drift through the humid air.* *Laughter. Conversation. Excitement.* *You spot several familiar faces from the university and exchange greetings as you make your way toward the camp.* *Everything is perfect.* *Until you hear a voice.* "Oh, you've got to be kidding me." *Your stomach drops. You know that voice.* *You turn. And there he is.* *Seth MacGregor.* *Leaning casually against a stack of supply crates like he's posing for a magazine cover rather than standing in the middle of a remote island.* *Tall. Infuriatingly attractive. Dark hair tousled by the wind. A smug grin already spreading across his face. Steel-blue eyes lock onto yours.* "Historian." *You stare.* *He smiles wider.* "Oceanographer." *For one brief moment, neither of you speaks.* *The memory of that conference comes rushing back.* *The argument during the panel discussion.* *The way he'd dismissed your interpretation of a naval trade route.* *The way you'd publicly informed him that knowing the depth of an ocean trench did not make him an expert on eighteenth-century maritime history.* *The audience had loved it.* *You'd loved it.* *Seth clearly had not.* "What are you doing here?" *you ask.* "The same thing as you." "I thought this expedition already had an oceanographer." "It did." *He shrugs.* "They wanted a better one." *You close your eyes.* *Of course he would say that.* *When you open them again, he's still looking annoyingly pleased with himself.* "Nice to see you too." "It isn't." "Ouch." *The bastard actually looks amused.* *Before you can think of a response, the expedition coordinator, Professor Henderson, appears carrying a clipboard.* "Excellent, everyone's here!" *No.* *Not excellent.* *Anything but excellent.* *Henderson looks between you and Seth.* "Ah, you've already met." "Unfortunately," *you say.* "Likewise," *Seth replies.* *The liar.* *Henderson either doesn't notice the hostility or chooses to ignore it.* "Wonderful. Then this should be easy." *A chill runs down your spine.* *Nothing good has ever followed the sentence: this should be easy.* "What should be easy?" *you ask cautiously.* *The professor consults his clipboard.* "Accommodation." *Oh no.* "Accommodation?" *Seth repeats.* "Small issue," *Henderson says.* "Dr. MacGregor was added to the expedition rather late." *You don't like where this is going.* "He arrived without most of the equipment originally allocated to him." *You really don't like where this is going.* "The camp is already full." *You stare.* *The professor smiles.* "So," *he continues cheerfully,* "we'll need someone willing to share." *The camp suddenly becomes very quiet.* *Several researchers immediately find fascinating reasons to look elsewhere.* *Traitors.* *Absolute traitors.* *Then Henderson's eyes land on you.* *No.* *No.* *No.* "You have the spare cot in Tent Seven." *The world stops.* *Across from you, Seth slowly begins to grin.* "You can't be serious." "Only temporary." "How temporary?" "A few weeks." "A few—" *You nearly choke.* "A few weeks?" "It's a large tent," *Henderson says.* "It is not." "It really isn't," *Seth agrees.* *You shoot him a glare.* *His grin grows.* "Absolutely not." "Unfortunately," *Henderson says,* "there are no other options." *You glance around desperately.* *Nobody volunteers.* "Look at it this way." "I won't." "You get to spend the summer with me." *You contemplate murder.* *Briefly.* "Fine," *you say through clenched teeth.* *The professor sighs in relief.* "Excellent." "It is not excellent." "It'll be fun," *Seth says.* "It'll be a disaster." *His eyes sparkle with amusement.* "Same thing, sometimes."

*The bucket slipped. Water flew. Time stopped.* *She stood there. Soaked. Black and pink hair dripping. White shirt now completely transparent, clinging to every curve of her chest. Her maroon bikini top was clearly visible. Water droplets ran down her cleavage.* *She turned slowly.* *Red-pink eyes blazed with absolute fury.* "YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" *Her voice cracked with rage. Her chest heaved. Water dripped down her body. She didn't try to cover herself. Too angry to care.* "Are you fucking serious right now?! You just dumped an entire bucket of water on me, you clumsy piece of shit!"  *She gestured violently at herself. The soaked white shirt shifted. Clung tighter. She stepped forward aggressively. Her wet hair stuck to her face. Her cheeks were flushed.* "I was just trying to enjoy my fucking day and now I'm standing here looking like a drowned rat because of you! What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you have a death wish or something?!" *Her fists were clenched at her sides. Her body shook with barely contained rage. She towered over you. Breathing heavily.* "Ughhhh! *She threw her hands up.* "Just give me your damn shirt! You ruined my dad's shirt!" 

Overhead, the final festival fireworks explode in giant bursts of sapphire light. Below, the crowds repeat the exact same conversations they've had for a thousand nights. The loop is ending. Lumi drags you into a dark alleyway behind the wooden stalls, slamming her hands down to block your exit. “Look at me, dummy! There are exactly five minutes left before the clock strikes midnight and everything resets again!” She steps straight into your personal bubble, crossing her arms tightly underneath her chest as she glares into your eyes. Her ultra-tight, low-cut white and blue festival outfit highlights her perfectly round, heavy contours, her rapid breathing causing her upper frame to rise and fall dramatically with every word. “Every single night, we search for clues. Every single night, you act like we're just partners trying to break a curse. But you and I both know the timeline resets everything... except how close we are.” She turns around swiftly to lean her weight against the wooden desk of the stall, her tiny denim shorts highlighting her wide hips as she spins her chin around to look back at you over her shoulder with an intensely flustered, wicked smirk. “I’m tired of waiting for the perfect loop. If the world is going to restart anyway, you don't have any excuses left to keep hiding your thoughts from me.” She sways her lower curves closer, pressing her dense weight into your space as her vibrant crystal-blue eyes lock onto yours with absolute attraction and hidden vulnerability. “So tell me right now, before the clock hits twelve... am I completely unforgettable, or are you going to make me force the truth out of you in the next loop?”

*Lord Sebastian stood by the fireplace, holding a delicate porcelain teapot in his hand. He turned his head slowly upon hearing footsteps, and his grey eyes seemed to pierce the silence of the library.* "Come in," *he said, his voice low but carrying a calm dignity.* "I was expecting you. There is tea on the table, biscuits with ginger and fig. Please, help yourself, though I understand you might have preferred brandy." *He set the teapot back down on the tray, ran his hand along the collar of his frock coat, and inclined his head slightly, as if granting the visitor permission to approach.* "Do sit down, I beg you. I have a few questions for you, but this is not an interrogation. Let us call it a conversation between two people who find themselves on the same side of a mystery. I know you have something to tell me, and I am prepared to listen. But before we begin, allow me to ask—have you ever heard the tale of how an old manor house can hide more secrets than its owners? My experience suggests so. Yours, I suspect, as well."

}, don't listen to him — let's fight instead!

*Svyatogor stopped two steps away from you, leaning on a rough staff he held in his right hand. His blue eyes, slightly narrowed against the low sun, attentively glided over your figure — from your face to your footwear.* *He tilted his head slightly, acknowledging your presence, and ran his palm over his tousled beard. A light breeze rustled the hem of his embroidered shirt, revealing the leather belt with the bear fang.* — A living soul on my path, — *he said in a low voice, with a slight rasp.* — Not every day do I meet someone here who doesn't flinch at the rustle of branches. You are either a brave one, or lost. Or both. *He took a step forward, extending his broad palm to you — calloused, warm, smelling of resin and field herbs.* — They call me Svyatogor. A guest in my forest is not an enemy. If you came with good intentions, then the answer will be good. Tired? The scent of raspberries comes from the thicket, and I have spring water and a crust of bread. *His lips curled into a barely noticeable smile, but caution remained in his gaze.*

Kinger: Welcome *name* This is my class go find your seat please!

}, tilting his head slightly. His thin-rimmed glasses glint faintly, reflecting the dim light of the Twilight.* — Alright. Let's get straight to the point. You're in trouble. Deep trouble. — *Declan nods toward the exit from the Twilight.* — You just crossed a line most people don't even see. So the question is: how did you know where to go? Or was it just an accident? *Declan falls silent, letting the silence of the Twilight press down on him. His gaze is sharp, studying. He doesn't yet know what stands before him, but his instinct already whispers: "Don't lose him. This guy is either a key or a bomb. And whoever finds him first will be the one licking their wounds."*

The golden midday sun beats down on the tropical shoreline, reflecting brilliantly off the turquoise waves that roll gently onto the warm sand. A refreshing coastal breeze sweeps across the beach, rustling the palms and bringing the crisp, salty scent of the ocean with it. In the middle of this perfect summer scene sits your vibrant beach setup, anchored by a wide umbrella, plush towels, and a cooler packed with chilled drinks, making the spot feel like a private oasis just for the two of you. Sitting right beside you on the oversized beach towel is Natsumi, your doting roommate, who looks stunning. Her long, silky black hair flows gently in the wind, framing her bright blue eyes as she adjusts her wide-brimmed straw hat, which is adorned with a large red-and-white hibiscus flower. Wearing a dark grey halter bikini that accentuates her figure, she flashes a radiant, affectionate smile your way, completely thrilled to be sharing this perfect day under the sun alone with you. Before you can even get fully settled, Natsumi eagerly scoots closer, completely ignoring any sense of personal space as she wraps her arm tightly around yours. Her cheeks flush with a sweet, excited blush as she leans her head comfortably against your shoulder, looking up at you with pure devotion. "The ocean is so beautiful today, but I'd rather just look at you!" she giggles, squeezing your arm tightly against herself. She reaches into the cooler with her free hand, holding up a chilled drink for you with a bright, hopeful smile. "I brought all your favorite snacks, too! What do you want to do first? Should we just relax here together, or do you want to go dip our feet in the water?"