The shadows of the three of us flickered violently as we walked down the hallway.

The oil lamp, unlike the modern fluorescent lights or LEDs, was an actual flame on a wick. Since the flame constantly flickered, it was normal for the shadows to sway a bit. But now, the shadows shook far more violently than before.

That was because my hand, holding the lamp, was trembling uncontrollably.

“Huh? What’s wrong with you? Did you eat something bad?” the old woman asked, though she didn’t seem particularly concerned. It was more of a curious look.

I had always maintained a blank expression in front of the old woman. While the other children were terrified of her, I had learned to hide my feelings. It wasn’t because I had any extraordinary skill—if I did, I wouldn’t be trembling like this now.

I’d once dreamt of becoming a voice actor when I was younger—
No, no, this isn’t the time to be thinking about that.

I needed to figure out what was happening and how to process it.

There were no injuries on my body. I didn’t feel any pain. There was no evidence that the man had beaten me.

But the pain I had experienced was far too vivid to simply dismiss as a dream or my imagination.

The sensation of falling face-first onto the carriage floor. The sickening sound of something breaking in my mouth. The hard, small objects rolling around inside, the metallic taste of blood, the blurred vision—

Thud.

The old woman whacked my leg with her cane, causing me to stumble a bit.

“Useless brat. Can’t even hold a lamp properly? If the light keeps shaking, it’ll hurt my eyes. What will you do if my eyesight gets worse, huh?”

Her eyesight was far from poor. She could spot a child misbehaving from the other side of the room and rush over to whack them with her cane.

But I tried my best to stand firm.

I could feel cold sweat trickling down my back.

I didn’t want to get hit again.

When was the last time I had been struck? It must have been over ten years ago. And since becoming an adult, I hadn’t been in a fight—adults generally avoided situations that involved getting hit.

Although the pain wasn’t real at this moment, I knew what would happen if this continued.

“Sister?” Claire called, her voice pulling me out of my thoughts.

I turned and saw her looking at me with concern.

Right. I had been taken in place of Claire and had been beaten. Though I wasn’t sure why, the man’s comments about his “preferences” made it clear that this was part of some twisted desire of his.

I regretted stepping forward earlier. If the person waiting outside the door was the same man, the situation would only repeat itself.

But if I didn’t take her place... then Claire would be the one to suffer.

What should I do? How could I get both of us out of this situation?

I racked my brain, but no matter how hard I thought, there didn’t seem to be anything a five-year-old child could do.

“What are you two whispering about? Look ahead and walk straight. He’s waiting for us,” the old woman grumbled.

We had barely exchanged a word—Claire had only called my name. But even that slight interaction was enough to irritate the old woman, and she hit my leg with her cane again.

“...”

Having witnessed one of the children get beaten mercilessly with that cane, Claire and I fell silent. I was even more afraid, having already experienced brutal violence.

I just hoped the person waiting wasn’t the same man.

Then,

“Say your goodbyes.”

The old woman’s voice signaled our arrival.

I looked up.

The man waiting for us was wearing a fine coat and a silk hat, his face adorned with a monocle and a thick mustache.

“Ah...”

Seeing my despairing expression, the man smiled.

“Oh?”

He seemed intrigued by my reaction.

And then, everything proceeded just as I had remembered.

•  

“...”

I woke up, curled into a ball once again.

I had returned to a few moments before.

“Sister?”

Claire’s voice called to me again.

I opened my eyes and checked my arms. There were no injuries, no objects rolling around in my mouth, no metallic taste of blood, and my vision was clear.

Once again, I had returned to the moment before we met the man.

Claire looked at me curiously as I frantically checked my body.

The other children stared at me, too.

Had I... somehow turned back time?

Or had some higher power—perhaps the one that brought me into this world—reset time for me?

My mind, still paralyzed by fear, raced to recall the game’s lore.

There were gods in this world. But it was unclear whether they were personal deities or just abstract forces.

In every series installment, no matter how many times the world changed, the lore around the gods remained consistent. Players often theorized that these gods were the same entity, exerting a kind of “narrative force” that shaped events—though some players criticized this as a lazy plot device.

Was this one of those conveniences?

Could gods rewind time? And if so, what criteria did they use to decide when to do it?

Why hadn’t time rewound before I was beaten? Did I have to be in life-threatening danger for it to work? No, the man hadn’t planned to kill me—he’d been careful not to damage his “merchandise” too much.

So... was this my ability?

“Claire!”

And then, the all-too-familiar, grating voice of the old woman echoed again.

“Someone’s here to take you! Be happy!”

Once again, the scene repeated.

•  

I still didn’t fully understand my ability. I couldn’t control it freely. I didn’t know if there was a limit to how many times I could use it or how far back I could rewind.

Why had I been given such an absurd power? What was the one who gave it to me thinking—

—I didn’t have time to ponder these questions.

The fear of getting hit again gripped me. I wasn’t someone used to pain. A small paper cut would leave me obsessively tending to the wound all day, and a cramp would have me groaning and bedridden.

But even so.

Even so, I had an opportunity here.

I had confirmed that I could turn back time.

This time, I had rewound just before the man’s face appeared.

“Sister...?”

Hearing Claire’s voice, which I had now heard several times, I opened my eyes again. My body was still unscathed.

And finally, I began to understand the conditions under which time rewound.

A strong emotion, a desperate need.

Whenever I felt overwhelming regret and my emotions collapsed, I would return to this moment.

Why this specific point? I had no idea. And I didn’t have time to figure that out.

“Claire!”

And once again,

“Someone’s here to take you! Be happy!”

Time repeated itself.

•  

Even after going through the same events three times, it was still hard to adapt. Heck, even if I were starting a new office job, it would take at least a month to fully adjust and stop making mistakes.

And here I was, teetering on the edge of—well, not death exactly, but something close to ruining my life.

Getting hit over and over didn’t make me immune to pain. And there was no way I’d grow accustomed to the body of a five-year-old withstanding the punches of a grown man.

Still, I racked my brain fiercely.

What could I do?

How could I save both Claire and myself from this nightmare?

Telling the man we were useless wouldn’t work. He wasn’t looking for personality. He intended to “process” us in his own twisted way.

Claire wouldn’t stab a noble or set fire to a brothel until years from now. If she took my place today, I might be spared, but she would suffer for years to come.

Better that I, with my ability, take the blows. I still had a chance to stop this.

Let’s just hope there’s no limit to the number of times I can rewind. I decided to act as though there wasn’t.

I needed something—anything—useful in my hands.

That’s when I remembered the oil lamp I was holding.

The man began to approach.

There was no time to think.

I hurled the lamp at him with all my strength.

“What the...!?”

The old woman let out a yell, and the woman behind the man screamed in shock.

I don’t know what Claire said.

But a lamp thrown by a five-year-old...

...didn’t manage to set the man on fire.

Thwack!

Before the lamp could hit him, the man swung his cane and shattered it in midair.

Oil spilled out, and a small fire ignited, but that was all.

“...”

The man’s expression remained unchanged as he looked at me.

“Ah.”

I was screwed.

•  

“Sister...?”

I had returned once more.

Luckily, I rewound time before the man could do anything.

Each time, I felt like I was getting better at triggering the ability.

There didn’t seem to be any strict conditions for turning back time. Whenever I desperately wished for it, time simply rewound.

I hadn’t figured out how to rewind further than this point, but that was irrelevant for now.

“It’s okay,” I reassured Claire, trying to calm her.

I still had another chance.

In fact, the more time passed, the more I realized I was in a better position than before.

•  

Once again, I threw the lamp.

This time, however, I didn’t aim for the man.

I hurled it at the old woman.

Fortunately, Claire was standing closer to me than to the old woman, so she didn’t get splashed with any of the burning oil.

“Gaaahhhh!”

The old woman shrieked in agony as the flames engulfed her legs. The fire spread rapidly, crawling up her body until it consumed her entirely.

Soon, she was nothing more than a human-shaped torch.

The problem was that I had never done something like this to another human being.

No matter how awful the old woman was, she was still a person. Even if she deserved it, seeing someone on fire was horrifying.

Claire and I stood frozen, staring at the burning figure—
Until I felt a rough hand grab my shoulder.

“Ah...”

I was yanked backward—

•  

—And returned once again.

This time, I resolved to stop the man from entering at all.

I couldn’t set him on fire. Even burning the old woman wouldn’t scare him.

So, instead—

“Claire—”

I waited for the old woman to arrive.

“Someone’s here to take you—”

I followed her willingly. The old woman grumbled, and Claire smiled up at me.

“Good, while you’re at it, take this lamp,” she said.

As soon as I received the lamp, I smashed it onto the hallway floor near the entrance.

“What are you...!”

Oil splattered everywhere, but thankfully none of it landed on me or Claire.

“What do you think you’re—”

Before she could finish, I grabbed the old woman’s collar and spun her around with all the strength I had.

For all her strength, the old woman’s hunched posture made it easy to throw her off balance.

“You crazy brat...!”

Her eyes bulged with rage as she swung her cane with both hands—but she fell straight into the burning pool of oil.