100 Prompt Challenge - Astelle

Prompt: Inspired by A Regressor's Tale of Cultivation.

A time loop isn't some wonderful opportunity. Living in a world on repeat—deprived of the release of death, unable to move forward, unable to move on—it could break anyone.

Unless they had someone to share that hell with.

—

The first time it happened, Asta thought it was déjà vu.

He woke up in Hage, just like he always had—his tiny, cramped bed at the church, birds chirping outside. The smell of morning bread wafted through the air as Father Orsi yelled at Nash to wake up. It was normal. Too normal.

Then came the real shock: the Grimoire Acceptance Ceremony.

He watched as Yuno stepped forward, the old man handing him the four-leaf grimoire. He felt something twist in his gut. This already happened. He was sure of it. But he told himself he was imagining things, that it was just nerves—until he walked up to get his own.

Nothing.

No grimoire.

Just like last time.

But it wasn't last time. That had already happened. Hadn't it?

Then, after the ceremony, when he stepped outside, still stunned, and Yuno stood in front of him with the same cold confidence, before walking past him, the same words spilled out of his mouth.

"There's no way…."

And Asta knew.

He had lived this before.

Panic gripped him as he stumbled back, breath heaving. He turned wildly, eyes scanning the town square. Same people. Same place. He tried to remember what happened next—Revchi, the ambush, the five-leaf grimoire—

And then it did happen. Again. Just like before.

The old chain mage struck, binding Yuno, laughing in that same cruel voice. Asta fought, lost, and bled the exact same way, his desperate scream for strength echoing into the void—

And the grimoire answered.

For a brief moment, he wondered if it wasn't a loop. If he had imagined it. But as the days passed, every step, every interaction, every word mirrored his memories exactly, and the truth crashed down like a hammer.

This wasn't a dream.

He was repeating life.

And he was alone in it.

At least, until he met her again.

—

The second time it happened, Noelle broke.

She hadn't realized it at first.

She had been standing in front of the towering shelves of the Grimoire Tower, the weight of her family's expectations a crushing force in her chest, fingers trembling as she reached forward to claim her grimoire—

And then, suddenly, she was there.

Again.

The book snapped open in her hands, glowing faintly with magic, and she almost dropped it.

She knew this. She had lived this.

No. No, it was impossible.

She must have been exhausted.

She carried on.

She tried to ignore the gnawing certainty that every moment had already been written, that every mistake was one she had already made.

It wasn't until the Black Bulls initiation—again—that her mind nearly cracked due to the thunderous and absurd realization.

Magna's fireball.

Her magic exploding.

Asta grinning, launching himself through the air, deflecting the attack—

She watched it happen. Frame by frame. Identical. Perfectly replicated.

She knew the words before they left his lips.

She knew how her squadmates would react.

And she knew it wasn't right.

When the night ended, she locked herself in her room and tried to scream, but no sound came out.

It took months for them to find each other.

—

Asta had suspected—hoped—that someone, anyone, would notice something was wrong. That maybe Yuno, with his absurd talent, would remember. That Captain Yami, with his absurd instincts, would sense something.

But nobody did.

Nobody, except—

"You know, if you keep staring at me like that, I'll start thinking you have a crush on me."

Noelle's voice, sharp and familiar, yanked him from his thoughts.

They were on a mission. A standard one, something about a bandit camp outside the Forsaken Realm. She stood beside him, arms crossed, impatient.

He had been watching her. Studying her. Because in the sea of faces that acted exactly as they had in the first loop, there was something off about Noelle.

The way her hands twitched when she cast her spells. The way she hesitated before speaking, like she was forcing herself through motions.

She wasn't just living—she was performing.

Like him.

His pulse quickened.

A test.

"…What do you remember about the first time we met?" he asked.

Noelle blinked.

He saw it in her eyes—the flicker of raw panic before she masked it.

"You were annoying," she said. "And sweaty."

Asta grinned, wide and sharp.

"You hesitated."

"I—what?"

"You hesitated. You never hesitate when you insult me."

She stiffened, shoulders squaring. "You're imagining things."

"Am I?"

Something in her cracked. Just a little. But it was enough.

Enough for him to see the flicker of dread—the same dread that had consumed him for months.

"…Noelle," he said slowly. "How many times have you done this?"

Silence.

Then—

Her breath hitched.

Her fingers clenched.

And she whispered:

"…Twice."

His heart slammed against his ribs.

Twice. That meant—

She remembered.

She knew.

A laugh bubbled up in his throat. A real laugh, wild and full of something almost like relief.

Because for the first time since this hell began—

He wasn't alone.

That was the first loop.

The next ones were worse.

Because now they knew.

Knew they weren't insane.

Knew they were trapped.

And no matter what they did—no matter how they tried to change things, no matter how far they ran or how fast they fought—

Time always reset.

After the war.

After victory.

After death.

They always woke up in their beds. Back at the beginning.

Staring at the same ceiling.

Hearing the same voices.

Living the same lives.

Over. And over. And over.

They had tried everything.

Exploring forbidden dungeons. Hunting down time magic users. Seeking out the Wizard King, the elves, the devils—anything that might explain what had happened to them.

Nothing.

No answers.

No escape.

And slowly—slowly—the emptiness of eternity crushed them.

But at least, in the wreckage of endless life, they had each other.

Even as the world around them repeated, even as their friends became strangers—they remained.

The only constants in an unchanging nightmare.

And if they had to endure it forever—

Then at least, they wouldn't be alone.

—

Loop Twenty-Four

They stopped counting after twenty.

Numbers didn't matter when they always ended at the same place.

Noelle sat on the castle balcony, staring at the kingdom below. She had seen it burn. She had seen it thrive. She had seen it fall into ruin, then rise again as if nothing had happened.

The air was cool. The moon was high. The night was quiet.

Then came a familiar voice.

"You look like you're gonna jump."

She sighed, turning her head just enough to see Asta leaning against the railing, arms crossed. His expression was lighthearted, but she saw the exhaustion in his eyes. The centuries gnawing away at his sanity, just as it guanwed away at hers.

"And if I was?" she asked.

Asta snorted. "Then I'd catch you. Again."

Her lips twitched. "It won't change anything."

"I know."

Silence stretched between them.

Then Noelle whispered, "I don't know how much longer I can do this."

Asta didn't answer immediately.

Instead, he walked to her side, resting his arms on the stone railing.

"I used to think the same thing," he admitted. "But then I realized…" He turned his head to look at her. "If we're gonna be stuck like this forever, I'd rather spend it with you than anyone else."

She stared at him.

His eyes were so open, so certain. Even after all these loops, all these resets, he still looked at her like that. Like she was something real in a world that was fake.

She let out a slow breath, then turned back to the kingdom.

"…Yeah," she murmured. "Me too."

And the night passed.

Another loop began.

—

Loop Thirty-Nine

They tried.

Again and again, they tried.

They searched for answers. Sought out forbidden knowledge. Faced gods and devils and forces beyond comprehension.

But the world always reset.

Nothing stuck.

Nothing mattered.

At some point, they stopped trying.

Not out of hopelessness. Not out of despair.

But because the only thing that was real in all of it—was each other.

And to them, each other was all that mattered.

—

Loop Fifty-Two

Noelle had always imagined her first kiss would be a grand, romantic thing.

Instead, it happened on a rainy afternoon, on the roof of the Black Bulls' hideout, after a particularly bad loop where they had both died horribly and come back to life screaming.

She had been trembling.

Asta had been sitting beside her, knees pulled to his chest.

And then—

"I love you."

The words had slipped out before she could stop them.

Asta froze.

For a moment, she thought he hadn't heard her.

Then—

"…Say it again."

His voice was hoarse. Raw.

Noelle turned her head, meeting his eyes.

She saw the same exhaustion, the same empty void, the same unbearable loneliness—

And she saw something else, too.

Something fragile.

Something waiting.

She exhaled.

"I love you."

His breath shuddered.

Then he laughed, soft and breathless, and reached for her, cupping her face with rough, battle-worn hands.

And then he kissed her.

The rain poured down around them, cold and heavy.

But his lips were warm.

—

Loop Seventy-One

The war ended.

They won.

The world reset.

Again.

Noelle sat in the wreckage of another lost future, watching the sun rise.

Asta sat beside her.

She rested her head against his shoulder.

"I don't even care anymore," she admitted.

"About what?"

"The war. The kingdom. Any of it."

Asta hummed. "Yeah. Me too."

Silence.

Then—

"…As long as I have you," Noelle murmured, "I think I'll be okay."

Asta reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together.

"Yeah," he said. "Me too."

The sun rose.

And the world reset.

Again.

And again.

And again.

—

Loop ???

They lost count.

They didn't care.

Asta held her hand as they walked through the capital, laughing at jokes only they understood, living in a world that only belonged to them.

Because in the end, nothing mattered.

Not the loops.

Not the resets.

Not the people who lived and died and never remembered.

Only one thing was real.

And it was them.

Noelle squeezed his hand.

Asta squeezed back.

And together, they stepped into another eternity.

Hand in hand.

Forever.