I inhaled sharply at Tiamat's words, though the revelation didn't shock me as much as it might have. The possibility had been gnawing at the edges of my consciousness for years, and Isolde's cryptic comments had practically confirmed my suspicions.
But now, I knew it with absolute certainty.
The original Arthur was a regressor, and this was a different timeline—a new iteration of events that had somehow gone wrong before.
"Your mind is truly sharp," Tiamat nodded with approval, her crimson eyes seeming to read my thoughts as easily as an open book. "Isolde already told you much of this anyway, so the revelation itself matters little. We were able to create a method to edit the past through the use of regression magic."
I nodded, my mind racing through the implications. How many times had this cycle repeated? How many versions of Arthur Nightingale had walked this path before me?
