There it was: the Church of the Loopkeepers.

Just as it had been on the last loop; a small circle of huts surrounding a raging fire. These buildings weren’t equipped with heating, Sham supposed, or at least their stoves and piping had been ripped out, sold off. So the fire wasn’t just some kind of spiritual endeavour; it was a necessity.

People dressed in the typical green robes of the church ambled from place to place, not a single one of them acting as though they had anywhere to be.

‘As though they have all the time in the world…’

‘Not now,’ Sham told Recollection.

As he pressed closer, Sham noticed again the sprawling ink on the skin of the church’s members. Most of it, present largely on their arms, was covered by the fabric of their greencloth. But some remained visible, whether that was because it poked out the ends of their sleeves, or because its owner wore their robe rolled up at their arms, displaying their tattoos for all the world to see. There were no images, only words—cryptic messages that meant nothing to Sham but meant, presumably, all the world to their hosts.

Sham saw a familiar face staring at him from across the makeshift square, smiling at him with a warmth in her eyes that could only have been genuine. Ariel. The church’s leader. And she seemed to recognise him.

‘Of course she does…’ Recollection murmured. ‘They are shaped by the Loop… remember it…’

Sham flashed the woman a nod, and she beckoned him closer with a nod of her own.

‘You’re just in time,’ Ariel announced to him, raising her hands in his direction in a welcoming gesture.

‘I thought you didn’t worry about such things.’

The woman raised an eyebrow. ‘About…’

‘Time.’

‘Ah.’ Ariel’s face broke into a smile once more. ‘You are correct, of course. There is always the next Loop.’ The woman seemed to catch a second meaning in her words, stumbled on them. ‘Well, for now.’

Sham had already been exposed to the church leader enough to know that he’d need to cut through the bullshit. So he did. ‘I’m here about Kryl. Again. I think he’s in trouble. I think—’

Ariel waved him down. ‘Never known a Loop he’s known where he hasn’t been in trouble.’

‘How is that “cutting through the bullshit” going for you, hmm?’ the wretched voice of Recollection echoed about Sham’s skull.

‘That’s as may be, but—’

The aloof young woman turned her back on Sham, began ambling slowly towards the largest of the buildings in the church compound. When she realised that Sham wasn’t following, she turned back, smiled again that warm smile, and said, ‘Come.’

Sham swallowed his irritation, and did as the woman commanded.

The inside of the largest building was clearly a church. It had all the church staples: lines of pews, a raised altar, disciples that wore peculiar fashion in the name of religion. But it felt like no church that Sham had ever stepped in before. Not that there had been many. There was no monument to the gods at the end of the glorified shack, no statue of Zeus or one of his many fellow Architects. There was no intricate stained glass window sending coloured light rippling over them. There were no holy books, placed in waiting on the hardwood seats.

No. This church was stripped bare. Concentrated to the very core of what makes a church a church; its people, and the tenets they all shared.

The dozens of greencloths gazed patiently at the empty altar, their eyes glazed over, their bodies still and free of fuss and fidgets.

Ariel gestured for Sham to take a seat at the rear of the church building, next to an older man who seemed no more interested in Sham than Sham was in being there. But he did as this woman wished, figuring that if he bought a little goodwill in her book, then he might just be able to get a little more information out of her. And a little less stupid bullshit.

The church leader next sauntered towards the altar at the end of the aisle, taking her sweet time in the process, and even stopping to pause—for no clear reason—about halfway through what should have been a very short journey. Only Sham shifted in his seat as he waited for this apparent service to begin, every other member of the church sitting almost eerily still.

Finally, Ariel reached her podium.

‘Welcome,’ she said, her voice calm, gentle. Like a mother urging her crying child to sleep.

The members of the church bowed their heads simultaneously, returning the welcome in kind. Sham instinctively joined in—there was power in the actions of the masses, after all—though it was a moment later than the rest of the flock.

‘We gather here again,’ Ariel continued, ‘On this unknown Loop, to share in the comforts of our fellow Keepers. Only here do we find others who remember as we do. Only here is our blessed knowledge not considered madness, as it seems to outsiders.’

That confirmed what Sham was already pretty damn sure about, then. Everyone here—everyone in the city who wore that familiar green cloth—remembered the previous Loops. But whether it was both of them, Sham didn’t know. All he could—

‘Both?’ the voice of Recollection repeated while the church leader droned on.

‘Well, yes.’

The people at Sham’s side did not seem the least bit phased by his talking to himself, their glazed eyes focused only on Ariel.

‘My, my, Sham, are you really going to pretend you don’t remember? That you don’t understand the full implication of the existence of this church?’

Sham gave no answer. They both knew Recollection would continue anyway.

‘The church existed before you first travelled through the Loop, yes? And if it existed then…’

Sham’s heart dropped. He could see where this was headed. ‘...Then the loop predates my awareness of it.’

‘You just didn’t remember it. Not until… well, not until me,’ Recollection finished.

Recollection was right. This certainly had implications. And the most terrifying of all was what this said about Sham’s mental state. He possessed all these facts already. This conclusion should have been clear. Should have been obvious. He could pretend it was just that the events of the past few days had kept him distracted, but…

Just how broken was his mind?

And it had implications for Kryl, too. That’s why the Target had spoken his name, back in that first—well, Sham’s first—loop. He’d been there before, where Sham had. Trying to stop her. Sham knew Kryl was aware of the loops, but he hadn’t quite realised just how many times he’d tried to stop the Target. And Kryl’s efforts seemed only to result in being hunted. Or being dead.

So maybe stopping the Target shouldn’t be Sham’s focus. Maybe his focus should be…

QUEST UNLOCKED: SAVE KRYL, SAVE THE WORLD

When it comes to stopping the Target, surely two heads are better than one.

Yes.

With Kryl’s help, Sham might have a chance. And the opposite, too; with Sham’s help, Kryl might have a chance. The pure firepower of the Citizen’s Police hadn’t been enough to stop the Target, even with Sham’s knowledge of the loops to guide them. But with the combined knowledge of both Sham and Kryl, maybe they’d work out a way to do it. Together.

Not to mention that completing this new quest would give Sham more experience points. Might even unlock a new skill point. Might even give him another advantage over the Target.

There was a lot to like about this plan of action.

‘...until we reach Elysium,’ Ariel was saying.

Sham couldn’t tell just how long he’d been withdrawn to his own mind, couldn’t tell just how much of this service he’d missed. And he didn’t know that he actually cared, either.

‘So I ask you all once again, on this infinite service, to believe in the process. To believe in the Loop. And to turn Tartarus into Elysium here, in our small patch of Haven, so that we are prepared when the Final Day comes.’

Ariel bowed her head, her eyes closed.

‘Until the next Loop, listen still to the voice of god that we all hear so clearly—’

Wait. What? Voice of god?

‘So flattering…’ Recollection murmured.

‘—And remember why it is that we do not interfere in the evolution of the Loop. Loopkeepers… I thank you.’

With that, Ariel departed her altar, and the eerily still patrons stirred into life, shuffling out of the church just as they entered. Across the room, through the crowd of heads, Sham caught Ariel’s eye.

‘Come,’ she mouthed to him.

And once again Sham found himself doing as the church leader told him. There was a strength to her, one that Sham didn’t quite understand. Perhaps it was Command, perhaps it was Magnetism, but those skills tended to leave a foul taste in the mouth of their targets, after a time. Sham had noticed neither.

‘Your thoughts?’ Ariel called out as he approached.

‘The weather is unseasonally nice, your church is at risk of falling down, and my head hurts,’ Sham replied.

‘On the service,’ the church leader clarified.

Sham nodded; he knew what she’d been asking. ‘You spoke about a voice of god.’

A sparkle erupted in Ariel’s eyes. ‘And you’ve heard it too, of course. Whispering to you. Pulling memories from darkness. Guiding you on your path.’

‘It’s not a god.’

‘Oh?’ Ariel replied, accompanying the prompt with a raised eyebrow.

‘It’s Recollection. A skill. I took one of the Citizen’s Police’s vials in a previous loop. And I’m pretty damn willing to bet you did too. So it’s not a god, it’s just a—’

‘Result of someone ripping up all the rules of our reality?’ Ariel finished for Sham. ‘We know where the voice came from. This is no news to us. Though what is this power—a power that exists outside all understanding of physics—but a manifestation of a god?’

‘Beautiful…’ Recollection whispered.

‘I think a god would be…’ Sham started, then paused as he searched for the word. ‘More… benevolent than this voice.’

‘Who says?’ Ariel replied, and then, without waiting for an answer for this apparently rhetorical question. ‘So you’ve realised now; you are one of us. You share our gift. The only question that remains is… do you become a member of our flock, or do you turn away from the light?’

Sham couldn’t help but snort. ‘Join you? You want me to join you. Just because I have perfect memory. Even though I didn’t agree with anything you said. You know, I don’t share the same—’

‘No,’ Ariel said, shaking her head. ‘Not perfect memory.’

‘Not perfect?’ Sham replied, finding himself incensed by this response. ‘It bloody well is. I can’t help but remember shit. Can’t get the memories out of my head. Recollection doesn’t let me escape the memories of the past. So it bloody well is perfect memory, yeah?’

Ariel pursed her lips together, stared off into the distance for a good few moments. Sham followed her line of sight, but saw… nothing.

‘Have you looked at a map lately?’ the church leader eventually said.

‘Of Haven?’ Sham replied. ‘Don’t need to. Know it like the back of my—’

‘No,’ Ariel interrupted. ‘Not of Haven. Of the world.’

‘Ah, right. No, not lately.’

The woman licked her lips, studied Sham for a moment before continuing. ‘And just how many cities might you find on one of these maps?’

Sham shrugged. The question felt patronising. ‘In the world? Three. Haven, Harbourage, Hazard.’

Ariel smirked, a soft blow of air escaping her nostrils. ‘Take another look at one at some point. Not a recent one. An older one. An antique. See what one like that says.’

Sham opened his mouth, but found himself lost for words. This request was so bizarre that he didn’t know quite how to respond to it. ‘...OK,’ he finally croaked. ‘I’ll… I’ll do that.’

Ariel answered with a curt nod, and then turned away, apparently done with this conversation.

‘Wait,’ Sham called after her.

The woman stopped, paused, then finally turned over her shoulder to look back at Sham. Her responding question was uttered in the form of a raised eyebrow.

‘I need to know about Kryl.’

Ariel’s face faltered again, the mere mention of Kryl’s name apparently causing some untold irrepressible distress to her.

‘I need to,’ Sham said again.

Eventually, the woman nodded, sighed. ‘OK,’ she said, her voice a whisper. ‘Kryl… Kryl was a member of our church. For a great many Loops. Came to us troubled, an unknown quest weighing on his mind. But, eventually, we quashed it—or we thought we did. He lived with us for a time. Became well regarded amongst his fellow worshippers. Became… loved.’

The way Ariel spoke this last word pulled on Sham’s heartstrings; he could tell there was more to this, but also sensed not to pursue this line of questioning. Instead, he asked, ‘Then why did he leave?’

‘Have you ever… have you ever accepted a quest so important that it weighs on you every waking moment? One that you might describe as, perhaps, your life’s purpose? One that no matter how you try to suppress it, it always re-emerges, crawling its way back up to the surface? That’s what it was for Kryl, this quest that we thought we’d quashed.’

‘What was it, this quest? To break the loop?’

Ariel took a very literal step back at the mention of this goal, swallowed some ill-hidden dread. ‘Yes… to an extent. That might have been a part of it. Or, more likely, its a means to another end. The reason never mattered to us. Only that in seeking such he abandoned all the church’s principles. Drew the ire of the public upon us. Broke our…’

She trailed off for a moment.

‘...Broke promises.’

‘Will he do it?’ Sham asked. ‘Will he break the loop?’

‘It’s not a question I care to answer. I warn you, Sham Tilner: breaking the Loop is not the answer he thinks it to be. Breaking the Loop… Well, a price will have to be paid.’

But Sham didn’t hear this warning. All Sham heard was… ‘Finally. Someone who wants the same thing.’