I’m trapped in a time loop, and it feels like there’s no escape. My name is Liu Weiwei, a newly appointed researcher at the Guining Provincial Museum. Just a few days ago, my mentor invited me to join a top-secret expedition to explore a newly discovered ancient tomb—one unlike any other. This tomb had been uncovered by a gang of tomb robbers, who vanished without a trace. Accepting the offer led me into a nightmare beyond comprehension. The tomb lay hidden deep within a mountain in rural western China, its entrance a gaping hole in an old, abandoned mine. I arrived at the camp during a heavy thunderstorm, where I was introduced to the team, who had just finished a long day of setting things up. That night, after the rain stopped, we took a walk around the site. Everything seemed normal—until it wasn’t. The first time it happened, I thought it was a dream. I was heading back to my tent when the ground violently shook beneath my feet. I struggled to stay upright, but in the next instant, I was back in the tent. The storm was still raging. My colleagues were there too, just as when I first arrived, their faces pale with confusion. I checked my watch. 7:00 PM. The exact moment I had first arrived. No matter where I go, no matter what I do, at exactly 8:40 PM, the earthquake strikes. A monstrous tremor rips through the mountain. The mine and the tomb collapse, swallowing everything. Time resets, dragging us back to that same moment. It’s maddening. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve lived through this cursed cycle. Each time, we try something different. We try contacting the outside world, fleeing the camp, even sabotaging the dig. But nothing works. Despite this, we’ve begun to uncover clues. Patterns. Something inside the tomb is causing this. One night, we ventured deeper than ever before. That’s when we saw it—a golden sword, embedded in a floating stone. The sword hummed with an unsettling energy, its ancient blade etched with symbols I couldn’t decipher. It felt alive, as if it were whispering to us, waiting. The moment my fingers brushed the hilt, a surge of memory hit me like a lightning strike. I had held this sword before. Not just once—countless times. I had gripped it, struggled with it, fought against the weight of time itself. All my memories rushed back at once when I removed it from the stone. We believe this sword is the key to our salvation. Our theory? If we can remove the sword and take it out before the tomb collapses, we might be able to break the loop. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve relived this night. Dozens? Hundreds? I can’t even remember. That’s the worst part. Each time the loop resets, I forget things—details, decisions, even entire conversations. Some memories return on their own, but others remain lost in the haze, only resurfacing when I see or touch something familiar, like echoes of thoughts I had long forgotten. And now, there’s another fear creeping in. What if I forget too much? What if, one day, I wake up at 7:00 PM and don’t even remember that I’m trapped? What if I no longer recognize the clues we’ve uncovered, the people I’m fighting alongside? As I write this, the clock ticks toward 8:40 PM once again. The tremors are coming. Will we ever escape this endless night? Or will we wither away, trapped in this cycle, until there’s nothing left of us but dust? I’m exhausted. Tomorrow, we will try again. But if I fail again… I don’t think I will have the strength to keep going.