Everytime she dies, the world rewrites him

Lena's POV

I stood in the alley.

The photo in my hands.

Noah watching me.

My mind was empty. Completely empty.

I looked at the photo again. The casket. The strangers. Noah crying.

Three years ago.

I didn't exist then.

"What am I?" I asked.

Noah stepped closer.

"You're Lena."

"No." I shook my head. "I'm a copy. A duplicate. You said it yourself."

Noah's face tightened.

"That doesn't change who you are."

"It changes everything." My voice rose. "I don't have a mother. I don't have a past. I don't even have a real birthday."

Noah grabbed my shoulders.

"Listen to me. You're real. You feel things. You think things. You're standing here right now. That makes you real."

I pulled away.

"Then why am I dying? Why do I keep resetting?"

Noah opened his mouth.

But before he could answer, another voice cut through the alley.

"Because you're defective."

I spun around.

A girl stood at the entrance.

Young. Maybe my age. Dark hair. Gray eyes.

My eyes.

She looked exactly like me.

My heart stopped.

"Who are you?" I whispered.

The girl smiled. A cold smile.

"I'm the original."

I stared at her.

The photo slipped from my fingers.

"That's not possible. Mr. Hale said you died three years ago."

She laughed. The sound was sharp. Hollow.

"Mr. Hale lies. He's part of the experiment."

"Experiment?"

She stepped closer. Her eyes studied me like I was a bug under glass.

"You really don't know anything, do you?" She looked at Noah. "You didn't tell her?"

Noah's face was pale.

"She wasn't ready."

The girl laughed again.

"Not ready? She's been dying for seven cycles. How much more ready does she need to be?"

I looked between them.

"What are you talking about?"

The girl tilted her head. The same way I did when I was confused.

It was unsettling.

"I'm Lena Carter," she said. "The real one. I never died. I was taken."

"Taken by who?"

"The people who made you."

My blood ran cold.

"They made me?"

"Yes." She nodded. "They made you to replace me. To live my life. To see if a copy could survive what I couldn't."

"Survive what?"

The girl looked at Noah.

"Tell her."

Noah's jaw tightened.

"Lena..." He paused. "The original Lena was part of an experiment. A program. They wanted to see if they could create a human who could survive repeated death."

I stared at him.

"Repeated death?"

"The resets," he said quietly. "The observer,the deaths...It's all part of the experiment. You're their latest attempt."

The latest attempt.

I looked at the girl.

"There were others?"

She nodded.

"Four before me. Three after me. You're the eighth."

Eight.

I couldn't breathe.

"Where are they now?"

The girl's face went blank.

"Dead. All of them."

I stepped back.

My back hit the alley wall.

"Why?"

"Because the experiment failed. Every time. They couldn't survive the resets. They broke."

I looked at Noah.

"And me?"

Noah's eyes met mine.

"You're different."

"How?"

He stepped closer.

"You remember."

I shook my head.

"I barely remember anything."

"You remember more than the others." His voice was urgent. "The others forgot everything after the first reset. They didn't question anything. They just lived and died and lived again. But you... you're questioning. You're fighting."

The girl scoffed.

"Fighting doesn't matter. She'll break just like the rest of us."

Noah ignored her. Kept his eyes on me.

"You're the first one to remember the deaths. The first one to find me. The first one to meet the observer and survive."

I looked at the photo on the ground.

"But I'm still dying."

"Because they want you to," Noah said. "Every death teaches them something. Every reset gives them data. They're watching you learn to remember. To survive. To fight."

The girl stepped forward.

"And when you finally break, they'll make a ninth."

I looked at her.

"You know all this. Why aren't you helping me?"

She laughed again. But this time it sounded different. Almost sad.

"Because I can't."

"What do you mean?"

She pulled up her sleeve.

My breath caught.

Her arm was covered in numbers. Tattoos. Rows and rows of numbers.

"Every reset," she said quietly. "Every death. Every timeline. I have them all. I remember them all. Every single one."

I stared at the numbers.

"How many?"

"Three hundred and forty-seven."

The number hit me like a punch.

"Three hundred and-"

"And you're only at seven." She pulled her sleeve down. "You have no idea what's coming."

Noah stepped between us.

"Enough."

The girl ignored him. Kept her eyes locked on me.

"They're going to test you harder now. The deaths will get worse. You'll start losing pieces of yourself. Memories. Feelings. People you love."

She looked at Noah.

"He'll start forgetting you too. It's already happening, isn't it?"

I looked at Noah.

"Is she telling the truth?"

Noah's face went tight.

"I remember enough."

"Not enough." The girl shook her head. "You forgot her name twice already. You forgot her face three times. You forgot-"

"Stop." Noah's voice was sharp.

The girl smiled.

"See? It has already started."

I felt cold.

Cold and empty.

"Why?" I whispered. "Why are you telling me this?"

The girl's smile faded.

"Because I want you to stop them."

"Stop who?"

"The people who made us."

I shook my head.

"I don't even know who they are."

The girl reached into her pocket. Pulled out a card. Handed it to me.

I looked at it.

Dr. Sloane.

A phone number.

An address.

"Find her," the girl said. "She's the only one who can end this."

"Why don't you go?"

"Because I can't." She looked at her arm. At the numbers. "I'm too broken. Too far gone. I can't even hold a thought for more than a few minutes. The resets took everything."

I looked at the card.

"What makes you think I can stop them?"

The girl's eyes met mine.

"Because you're the only copy that ever looked at Noah and didn't trust him completely."

I glanced at Noah.

He looked away.

Something cold settled in my stomach.

"What do you mean?"

The girl smiled again. But this time it wasn't cold.

It was sad.

"Every copy trusted Noah immediately. Believed everything he said. Followed him blindly. You're the only one who ever questioned him."

Noah's face went pale.

"Lena..."

I stepped back.

"What aren't you telling me?"

Noah reached for me.

I pulled away.

"Lena, please."

"Tell me."

Noah's hand dropped.

Silence.

Then the girl spoke.

"He works for them."

The words hit me like a slap.

"What?"

Noah's face was white.

"I used to," he said quickly. "In the beginning. But I-"

"Used to?" The girl cut in. "You still do. You give them reports. Every timeline. Every death. You tell them what she remembers."

I looked at Noah.

"Is that true?"

He opened his mouth. Closed it.

My heart started pounding.

"Answer me."

Noah's eyes met mine.

"Yes."

The word was barely a whisper.

Something inside me broke.

"You've been reporting on me?"

"At first. But then-"

"You watched me die. Seven times. And you told them everything?"

Noah stepped forward.

"Lena, I stopped. After the third death, I stopped giving them details. I started feeding them false information. I was trying to protect you."

"Protect me?" My voice cracked. "You were supposed to be helping me."

"I was. I am."

The girl laughed softly.

"Don't believe him. He's good at lying. It's his job."

Noah spun around.

"Shut up."

"Or what? You'll report me too?"

I looked between them.

My head was spinning.

Everything I knew was wrong.

The boy who remembered me. The boy who loved me.

He was one of them.

The girl stepped closer to me.

"I'm giving you a way out," she said quietly. "Dr. Sloane. She can stop the resets. She can stop the observers. She can stop all of it."

"Then why haven't you gone?"

The girl's smile faltered.

"Because I tried once. And they killed me for it."

I stared at her.

"Killed you?"

She nodded.

"Number thirty-seven. I ran to her. I begged her to help. And they reset the timeline and killed me in the worst way possible. A car accident. That's why I'm not in your timeline anymore."

I looked at her.

"You're not?"

She shook her head.

"I'm dead in your timeline. Every timeline after thirty-seven, I'm dead. I only exist because you're in this alley right now. Because I slipped through the cracks."

"Through the cracks?"

"The resets aren't perfect. Sometimes things bleed through. Memories. Emotions. People." She looked at Noah. "That's how he found you. He slipped through too."

Noah's face tightened.

"She's right."

I looked at him.

"You slipped through?"

"I started remembering the resets. All of them. Just like her." He nodded at the girl. "And when I did, they tried to erase me."

I stared at him.

"They tried to erase you?"

"They failed." His voice was hard. "But they're trying again. That's why the observer is here. He's watching me as much as he's watching you."

The girl nodded.

"They're cleaning up the mess. That's what this is."

"Cleaning up what?"

The girl's eyes met mine.

"Cleaning up their failed experiment. You. Me. Him. Everyone who remembers too much."

She looked at her arm.

"We're all broken copies. And they want to start fresh."

I felt something shift inside me.

A cold resolve.

"I'm not going to let them."

The girl smiled. A real smile.

"Good."

She turned to leave.

"Wait," I called out. "How do I find her? Dr. Sloane?"

The girl paused.

"She'll find you. Just keep the card close."

She walked away.

I stood in the alley.

Noah watching me.

The card in my hand.

And a voice in my head telling me something I didn't want to admit.

I couldn't trust anyone.

Not even him.

I walked home in silence.

Noah followed a few steps behind.

I didn't look at him.

I couldn't.

When I reached my house, I stopped.

Something was wrong.

The front door was open.

I never left the front door open.

My heart started pounding.

"Wait here," I told Noah.

I pushed the door open slowly.

The house was dark.

But everything looked normal.

The living room. The kitchen. The hallway.

I walked to my room.

My heart was beating so hard I could hear it in my ears.

I opened my bedroom door.

Everything looked normal.

My bed. My desk. My window.

But something was on my bed.

Something that had not been there before.

A small notebook.

Red cover. Worn edges.

I picked it up.

My hands were shaking.

I opened the first page.

My blood ran cold.

It was my handwriting.

I knew it anywhere.

But I had never seen this notebook before.

I read the first line.

"If you're reading this, you just met the original Lena."

My heart stopped.

I flipped the page.

"Don't trust Noah. He works for them. But don't hate him either. He's trapped just like you."

I flipped again.

"You're going to die again soon. Probably today. Maybe tomorrow. But you already know that."

I flipped faster.

"Dr. Sloane is your only hope. But be careful. She's not who she seems."

I flipped to the last page.

My hands were shaking so hard I could barely hold the notebook.

The last entry was dated.

June 20th.

Tomorrow.

I stared at the date.

It was tomorrow.

How could I write something tomorrow when today was June 18th?

I read the entry.

"You're going to wake up tomorrow and remember everything. All seven deaths. All seven resets. Everything."

"Don't panic. It's supposed to happen."

"The experiment is almost over."

"They're going to try to erase you soon."

"But you have a choice now."

"You can let them erase you."

"Or you can break the loop."

"Choose wisely."

"And don't trust anyone."

"Not even yourself."

The notebook slipped from my fingers.

I stared at it on the floor.

My handwriting.

But written tomorrow.

How?

I heard footsteps behind me.

Noah.

He was standing in my doorway.

"What's that?" he asked.

I didn't answer.

I couldn't.

Because I had just realized something terrible.

If I wrote this tomorrow...

That meant I survived tonight.

But the entry said I was going to remember everything.

All seven deaths.

All seven resets.

Everything.

And it said the experiment was almost over.

Which meant...

They were going to try something soon.

Something big.

I picked up the notebook.

I looked at Noah.

"Who was in my room?"

Noah's face went tight.

"I don't know."

"Liar."

He flinched.

"Lena..."

"Tell me the truth."

Noah looked at the notebook.

Then back at me.

His face was pale.

"Yesterday," he said slowly. "You came to me. You were crying. You said you remembered everything. You said you knew what was coming."

I stared at him.

"That's impossible. Yesterday I was at school. I was living my normal life."

Noah shook his head.

"No. Yesterday you found me. You told me to keep you safe. You told me that today would be the worst day."

I felt cold.

"What else did I tell you?"

Noah's eyes met mine.

"You told me that you wrote yourself a message. You said it would help you remember."

I looked at the notebook.

"I wrote this?"

Noah nodded.

"You wrote it yesterday. Then you went home. And today... today you don't remember any of it."

I sat down on my bed.

My legs couldn't hold me anymore.

I looked at the notebook.

I looked at the date.

June 20th.

Tomorrow.

How could I have written something yesterday that was dated tomorrow?

Unless...

Unless time wasn't moving forward the way I thought it was.

Unless the resets were happening faster than I realized.

Unless today wasn't June 18th at all.

I grabbed my phone.

The screen lit up.

June 20th.

My heart stopped.

"No."

I refreshed the screen.

June 20th.

I looked at Noah.

He was watching me.

His face was sad.

"It's been three days," he said quietly. "You've been resetting every few hours now. You just don't remember."

I stared at him.

"Three days?"

He nodded.

"June 18th. June 19th. June 20th. You've died three times since we met in the alley."

I shook my head.

"I only remember one death. The birthday."

"That's because your brain is protecting you. It can't handle all of them at once."

I looked at the notebook.

The entry.

"You're going to wake up tomorrow and remember everything."

"It's supposed to happen."

"The experiment is almost over."

I looked at Noah.

"If I wake up tomorrow and remember everything..."

Noah nodded slowly.

"Then you'll be the first one who survived the reset. The first one who held onto all the memories."

"And then?"

Noah's face went blank.

"Then they'll try to erase you."

I looked at the notebook again.

"Don't trust anyone."

"Not even yourself."

I looked up at Noah.

"Why should I trust you?"

He opened his mouth.

Then closed it.

Because he didn't have an answer.

Because he couldn't tell me the truth.

Because the truth was worse than anything I could imagine.

And suddenly I knew.

I knew what he was going to say before he said it.

Noah's eyes met mine.

"Because," he said slowly, "you're going to need me."

"For what?"

He stepped closer.

His hand reached out.

His fingers touched my cheek.

I didn't pull away.

"To survive tomorrow," he whispered.

His eyes were dark.

Full of something I couldn't name.

Fear. Guilt. Love.

All mixed together.

"What happens tomorrow?" I asked.

Noah leaned closer.

His forehead touched mine.

"Tomorrow," he said quietly, "you die for the last time."

My breath caught.

"Last time?"

He nodded.

"Either you remember everything and survive."

He paused.

His lips brushed against my forehead.

"Or you forget everything and I lose you forever."

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