This story is inspired by Re:Zero Watching Him Die Over and Over Again, also known as Theather of Despair, and Pandora IF. Even though there are not many topics similar to both stories, I just feel like making a Tappei-style IF story.

Also, this is my first piece of work/writing so I'm happy to accept criticism!

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"What about this? Still gonna keep yapping, ranting your random BS?"

The voice cut through the still air like a whip. He hadn't seen the strike. Didn't matter. His body already knew—he'd lost. The sharp scent of blood lingered. A scent that had followed him through so many loops it had become almost nostalgic.

Natsuki Subaru.

Alone.

Again.

Standing in the center of a massive, circular council chamber—though 'council' implied logic, discussion, order. There was none of that here.

Only chaos.

The orange stone tiles beneath him were set in an immaculate, impossible ring—clean, too clean. Arranged by hands that cared more for aesthetics than life. Gods, perhaps. Or demons. Or worse: people who had long stopped pretending to be either.

A perfect trap. Lovingly designed. And at the center—her.

A monster. Disguised as a girl.

She stood at the far end of the circle, barefoot, as if the cold didn't touch her. Dressed in frilly black garments that flirted with elegance but danced with depravity. Her arms moved as she spoke—dramatic, poetic. Her voice: a lullaby laced with cyanide.

His throat tightened. His lungs locked up, refusing to serve him. He couldn't speak. Couldn't respond. How do you reason with something that mocks the idea of reason?

She talked, and talked, and talked. Rambling about love. About the grotesque nature of humanity. About how easy it was to peel back someone's soul and see what they really are.

He tried to listen. He really did.

But—

"This madwoman... no—madgirl…"

His hands clenched into fists, fingernails digging into his palms as if pain would help him focus. His thoughts were a swirl of static. What the hell was she even on about?

Then he saw her. No warning. No time to prepare. A shape formed at her side like a cruel magic trick.

Her.

His eyes widened. His heart tripped over itself.

Silver hair.

Purple eyes.

That same white-and-purple outfit. The same soft features. The same everything.

Emilia.

His breath caught.

She stepped toward him, gentle and serene. Every movement is filled with grace. The kind of dream that could break a man if he tried to hold onto it too long.

But it wasn't her. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. The warmth in her eyes had curdled. The sparkles? False. The softness? A lie. And yet… it was her. Subaru took a step back, heart racing.

"Is that… Emilia?"

"No. No—wait. Is this… Capella?"

His voice cracked as realization crashed down like a guillotine.

"Authority of Lust?!"

He gasped—sharp, primal.

He'd faced Capella before, but this—this was cruelty on a whole different level. Could he attack her? Could he do it?

Could he raise a hand against that face? That smile? A smile he'd fought and died to protect?

The imposter's lips curled wider, painted with derision.

"Come on, give me your promised, inevitable denial!"

Her voice dripped with delight, with knowledge—like she'd already read the book of his heart and torn out the final page just to laugh at him.

"'Because I love her…'" she mocked, pacing closer. "'Because she stayed by my side…'"

"'Because when I'm with her, the world feels warm again…'"

"'Because I can be myself in front of her.'"

"'Because she acknowledged me.'"

"'Because I can't live alone anymore.'"

"'Because in a life full of lies, I know these feelings are genuine~'"

Every word was a dagger made from his own confessions. Every syllable perfect. Not just mimicking Emilia's voice, but replicating the rhythm of her heart. This wasn't just an illusion. It was his damnation.

His body screamed to run. But his soul—? His soul begged him to stay. He was her knight. He had to protect her. Even if… even if it wasn't really her…

Was it?

Then came the break.

Capella's voice sliced through the dream with manic glee, ripping the illusion to shreds like a child tearing through wrapping paper.

"FLOWERY CRAP! All of it! ALL OF IT!"

The face of 'Emilia' shattered. Like glass cracking from the inside. Her beautiful features twisted—unraveling—until Capella's real face emerged like a grotesque butterfly from a cocoon. Her grin widened past the boundaries of flesh. Blood wept from the corners of her mouth. And yet—she laughed.

"You love each other?! SAY THAT again after she's turned into a FLY!"

"You CAN'T, CAN YOU?!"

"It's DISGUSTING, after all!"

"YOU'RE the one who said it LOUD AND CLEAR!"

Then—

RIIIIIIIPPPPP!

The sound didn't belong in this world. It wasn't just physical—it was spiritual. Like something fundamental to reality had been violated.

The "Emilia" he knew and loved—torn apart. Shredded like a paper doll caught in a storm. No blood. No screams. Just nothing. Like she never existed. Subaru's mouth opened. But nothing came out.

Not a scream. Not a cry. Not even a word. Just silence. Because it wasn't just horror. It was guilt.

He didn't protect her. He let this happen. This is all my fault.

He stepped forward, shaking, hand outstretched like a child lost in a dream.

Then—

She changed.

Her body regenerated, peeled back into something hideous, elegant, and ancient.

Scales. Fangs. Eyes like rotting stars.

Capella Emerada Lugunica.

Sin Archbishop of Lust.

A creature who loved destruction not because it was effective, but because it was intimate.

"Look at me, meatbag!" she cackled.

There was no anger. No hatred. Just amusement.

She was having fun. And then—her hand twitched. A shimmer of sickly blue spiraled from her palm.

Dragon's hands.

Subaru's heart dropped. They launched. Faster than thought. Before he could move, scream, breathe—

They latched onto his left leg.

"No… No—NO!"

His voice cracked, his body convulsing.

"THIS IS WRONG! I'M GOING TO DIE!"

His instincts howled. Every part of his being screamed to flee.

But it was too late.

RRRRRIIIIIIPPPP!

His leg—gone.

Torn from him like paper soaked in blood. A spray of crimson followed, staining the once-pristine floor in chaotic arcs. Subaru collapsed. His scream was half-choked, half-roar. And in the distance—

Crusch. Still unconscious. Still unaware.

He was alone. He was always alone.

Capella stepped forward, licking blood from her fingers like syrup from candy.

And smiled.

Capella: "Ahh~ My head hurts!"

Still cradling Subaru's severed leg like a twisted trophy, Capella tilted her head to the side—an innocent smile blooming across her face. If innocence had fangs. If it wore the mask of a butcher pretending to be a ballerina.

Capella: "I got too excited and lost myself back there!"

She giggled—actually giggled—as she spun the dismembered limb in a circle, crimson streaks painting lazy arcs across the floor.

Capella: "Ah~ how embarrassing!"

Subaru was barely conscious. His body refused to function. His hands trembled violently as he pressed them against the gaping, ragged stump where his leg used to be. Heat radiated from the wound, wet and sticky—so much much.

His mind screamed. Over and over. This isn't real. This can't be real.

But the pain said otherwise. The pain was the truth. All he could manage was a weak, animal-like wheeze—a dry, gasping sound from a mouth too tired to scream.

Capella: "Oh dear, oh dear! You look like you're about to die~!"

She leaned closer, cooing the words like a lover.

And then—

She turned toward Crusch. Unmoving. Still unconscious. Still vulnerable.

Capella's eyes widened with childish glee.

Capella: "This one too, I guess!"

She crouched over Crusch like a beast preparing to feed, her muscles coiling, her expression an unreadable blend of adoration and malice.

Capella: "OH—I KNOW NOW WHAT TO DO!"

Then, without a second thought, she raised her arm—and sank her teeth into her own wrist.

There was no hesitation. No pain. Her teeth shredded her own flesh like it was wrapping paper around a prize. Dark, corrupted blood oozed down her arm, thick as tar, tainted with an essence Subaru could feel from meters away. It pulsed. It moved.

Subaru: "Wha… what are you…"

His voice was a ragged whisper. But Capella only smiled.

Capella: "Let's see what kind of unsightly mass you turn into."

One drop.

One.

It hit Crusch's cheek. A sizzle. A hiss. A sound like boiling oil on the skin.

Then—

Flesh melted.

Beautiful, proud features dissolved into twisted sinew. Skin blackened and peeled. Bone warped, jutting at impossible angles. The transformation was instantaneous—and utterly horrifying.

Capella: "HEY! Does it hurt?"

"DOESN'T IT HURT?"

She clapped her hands, eyes alight like she'd just witnessed a fireworks display.

Capella: "I've got dragon blood, you see! You wouldn't believe what happens when it kisses your pathetic flesh!"

She turned toward Subaru again, lips smeared with her gore, eyes glittering like shattered gemstones.

Capella: "Let's see who lasts longer—you, or that sack of she-meat over there~"

Then came the second drop. Another bite. Another burst of tainted blood. But this time, it landed on Subaru's open wound.

Time slowed. His heart stopped—then exploded into a thousand shards of agony.

Agony.

Fire surged through his body, devouring everything in its path. Every nerve screamed. Every cell burned. It wasn't healing, it was remaking. Tendons crawled back into place, muscle fibers twitching as they reattached. Bone cracked, then regrew, jagged and searing. His leg returned—but not as it was. It was pain incarnate.

He screamed. A scream that tore from his throat like his very soul was escaping. Capella clapped again, spinning on her heel like a dancer.

Capella: "Ooh~ Not bad. I was hoping you'd break a little faster, but you're stubborn, aren't you?"

To her, it was art. Another canvas of torment. Another sculpture made from blood and tears. And then—

The dragon stirred. Its eyes flickered open. Its wings twitched. Its blood had tasted weakness, and now it hungered.

Capella: "Oh my… Not bad at all~"

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Subaru's vision blurred. His body convulsed. But with the last thread of strength left in his soul, he reached out. Grabbed Crusch. Pulled her close. Her form—deformed, grotesque—was barely recognizable. But he bound her tightly to him with the whip he always kept strapped to his belt.

And dragged himself toward the dragon. It loomed—unaware. Or uncaring. Didn't matter. He didn't care if it ate him alive. Didn't care if it dropped him into the sky and let the wind finish the job. He just… had to get away.

He climbed. He mounted the beast with broken limbs and shattered pride. Tied himself and Crusch to its hide.

And whispered to no one:

Subaru: "I'll be fine… after I wake up…"

Then—darkness.

Sleep.

Or death.

Or both.

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?: "—at me, MEATBAG!"

A voice. A familiar voice. Laughter. Mockery. Pain. Déjà vu?

No.

Worse.

Subaru: "Did I… Return by Death…?"

And then—

—RRRRRRIIIIIPPP!

His left leg, once again—

Gone.

Torn.

Ripped away like a page from a book that fate hated. Same floor. Same monster. Same blood-curdling scream. But this time—

He was awake.

He felt everything.

His voice cracked. He screamed so hard, that his vocal cords gave out. He clawed at the floor. Bit into his own lip to stay conscious. He remembered it all. Every word. Every insult. Every moment of Crusch melting. Every second of his leg healing, then vanishing again.

Why?!

Why here?!

Why now?!

His thoughts spiraled, frenzied, like a bird with clipped wings flinging itself against a cage.

Subaru: "I can't afford to lose another life. Not now."

But the checkpoint… the damned checkpoint was here.

Not before Priestella. Not before the city. Not before Capella. Not before Regulus, that bastard, tore his leg off the first time.

No. He was trapped. This loop was his prison. This pain was his sentence. And the executioner wore a smile. The cycle continued. And the nightmare…

Was only just beginning.

Capella: "I got too excited and lost myself back there!"

Her voice fluttered with mockery, glee, and something too real—a twisted giggle echoing off the stone walls, echoing like a child bragging about stepping on ants.

Capella: "Ah, how embarrassing~!"

Still clutching the leg she'd ripped from Subaru as if it were a novelty item, she twirled it like a ribbon, laughing. Blood dripped rhythmically to the floor, soaking the pristine council chamber tiles that had once been the pride of Priestella.

Capella: "Also, why are you so calm? Never seen a human like you before... usually, you meatbags are all 'nooo don't kill me Capella-samaaa~' and then SPLURT!"

Her voice dipped lower, fascinated. Her eyes bore into Subaru with something between admiration and hunger. He lay slumped, bleeding, and yet… silent. Too silent. His hands twitched, not from fear—but from calculation. His face was pale. Sweat soaked his bangs. But he didn't scream.

Subaru, slumped against the stone wall, stared blankly at her. Blood spilled from his stump in short, furious bursts. Pain like liquid fire seared up his spine, but the real agony? The numbness. The quiet.

He'd felt this too many times. Too many loops. Too many deaths. Too little change. That's what unsettled her most.

Why wasn't he breaking yet?

Then, with the suddenness of lightning and the grace of a cat, Capella leapt into the air. Her landing was soundless, an eerie display of inhuman control.

Capella: "Oh, I know now what to do!"

The glee in her voice shouldn't have belonged to anyone bearing a human face. She bit into her wrist. Deep. Jagged. No hesitation.

CRUNCH.

Capella: "Let's see what kind of unsightly mass you turn into!"

The drop landed. Crusch's serene face twitched. Then screamed.

Not with her mouth—her face literally screamed. Muscles twisted, bones realigned. Her skin folded into itself like fabric burning under fire. Eyes boiled. Her once beautiful jaw stretched sideways like clay pulled apart.

Capella: "HEY! Does it hurt? Doesn't it hurt?!"

She danced in place like a schoolgirl watching fireworks.

Capella: "I have dragon blood inside me, you see! You WON'T believe what HAPPENS when you LOSE to my dragon blood!"

Subaru watched. And did nothing.

Because what could he do?

His own leg was missing. His whip was a meter out of reach. And his brain... refused to function.

And now?

Subaru:"…Damn you, Satella."

A name. A whisper. A prayer. It wasn't rage. It wasn't hope. It was the sigh of someone who's already seen this too many times. The checkpoint was too just like last time.

Rem... Rem disappeared because he wasn't fast enough.

Lye laughed while he watched her fall.

Capella: "Oh dear, oh dear~ Shouting for the witch won't save you!"

Capella: "There's something deeply wrong with humanity. Ah, how embarrassing~!"

Subaru: "Please… Satella… save me..."

Save Me. The only way. To. Delay. The. Inevitable.

Subaru: "I… I can Return by Death-"

And then—

His heart crushed. A sensation that no man should survive—his own soul compressed, body convulsing. Miasma flared from his pores. Time warped. The world shivered. His lungs dragged in the air like they were full of glass.

Subaru: "Oh! I'm back!"

Demibeasts flooded in from the broken council chamber doors—drawn to the Witch's scent pouring from his body like a curse.

Beasts. Monsters. All coming for his soul. Just as he expected. He threw his whip. It snapped forward, catching a demibeast and yanking it toward Capella. She grinned. The beast pounced. Its jaws wrapped around her torso.

CRUNCH.

Nothing. Her body reformed like wet dough.

Capella: "Oh~ You're so horrible!"

She stepped out of the beast's mouth, from inside, dragging her organs behind her like ribbons until they slithered back in.

Capella: "Didn't you know I'm a girl?"

Subaru, dizzy, muttered:

Subaru: "Shit… I knew that wouldn't do it."

He looked into her eyes. And saw no soul. Only art— and he was the canvas.

Subaru: "Invisible Providence!"

He screamed, summoning the unseen hand. His trump card. But before it could launch—

BOOM.

A dragon arm — blue, grotesque, born of Capella's Authority — slammed into his head.

Capella: "Love~ is a beautiful thing, don't you agree?"

Subaru couldn't respond. The pain hit. Delayed, then all at once. Every nerve in his body shrieked in chorus.

Then…

Blackness.

Not from dying. From going mad. But his ears… his ears still worked.

Oh. He's being swallowed alive.

Then, with one fluid motion—

RRRRRRIIIIIPPPP!

His head was torn clean off. Skull shattered. Jaw dislocated. His brain splattered like a watermelon dropped on stone.

...

And yet—

His consciousness lingered. Like static on a broken saw himself. Limp. Dead. His skull fell down the council, towards Garfiel and Wilhelm who were fighting the witch cultists. And then, a voice.

?: "NOOOOO! CAP'N!"

Garfiel. The voice of unfiltered grief. Rage. Despair. Losing the hero you're respected.

Then—

CRUNCH!

His scream was cut off. Subaru knew what happened.

And then…

Finally…

Natsuki Subaru died.

Again.