“Time is meaningless when you’ve lived the same day twice,” Marcus muttered, turning the antique stopwatch over in his trembling hands. Its brass surface gleamed mockingly in the dim light of his study.

After his third reincarnation, he had discovered this peculiar device at an obscure antique shop. The elderly shopkeeper, with knowing eyes that seemed to pierce through centuries, had simply said: “Some souls need more than one chance to get it right.”

“Why do you keep torturing yourself like this?” Sarah’s voice cut through his brooding. His wife—or rather, the woman who would have been his wife in his first life—stood in the doorway, concern etched across her face.

“Because I deserve it,” Marcus replied, his voice hollow. “Each time I press this button, I get to relive the day I ruined everything. The day I chose ambition over humanity.”

The memory of his first life still haunted him: the corporate takeover, the lives he’d destroyed, the families left destitute. His ruthless pursuit of success had led to multiple suicides among his former employees. The guilt had driven him to his own end.

“But you’re different now,” Sarah insisted, moving closer. “I see how you help people, how you’ve changed.”

Marcus laughed bitterly. “Changed? I’ve just become more sophisticated in my suffering. Dostoevsky would have a field day with my psychological state.”

He pressed the stopwatch’s button. The familiar tick-tick-tick filled the room, each second a reminder of his eternal punishment.

“You know what’s truly maddening?” he continued, pacing the room. “The joy I feel helping others now only amplifies the horror of what I did before. Every good deed is a stark reminder of my past cruelty.”

Sarah reached for the stopwatch, but Marcus pulled away. “You don’t understand. This isn’t just about redemption. It’s about justice.”

“And how many times must you relive that day before justice is served?” she challenged.

Marcus paused, studying the device that had become both his salvation and his curse. “Until the weight of my good deeds finally balances the scales of my past sins.”

The stopwatch suddenly grew warm in his hand. Its ticking became louder, more insistent.

“Marcus,” Sarah whispered, “look.”

The hands of the stopwatch had begun moving backward, faster and faster, while emitting a soft golden glow. Marcus felt a familiar sensation washing over him—the pull of time rewinding.

But this time was different. Instead of the usual darkness, he was surrounded by light. The warmth spread through his body, and he heard the old shopkeeper’s voice: “Some souls need more than one chance to get it right. And some finally do.”

As consciousness faded, Marcus realized that perhaps the greatest punishment wasn’t in reliving his mistakes, but in learning to forgive himself. The stopwatch had been more than a tool of torture—it had been a teacher of compassion.

In his final moments before the light consumed him, he smiled. The ticking had stopped, and for the first time in countless lives, the silence was peaceful.

Sarah watched as both Marcus and the stopwatch vanished in a gentle flash of light, leaving behind only a sense of completion and the faint scent of brass and redemption in the air.

The eternal cycle had finally broken, not through punishment, but through understanding. In the end, karma had served its purpose not as vengeance, but as a guide to enlightenment.