Chapter 46: The Why Question
Junior’s investigation started with a simple question: Why did regressors come back?
Not how—the mechanism was probably beyond current science. But why. Was it random? Deliberate? Was there a pattern?
He started with data. Dojun provided what he had: his own experience, Yuki’s, Baek’s (from notes Dojun had kept). Three data points weren’t enough for statistical analysis, but Junior wasn’t doing statistics. He was doing something his father had never thought to do: he was looking for the purpose.
“All three of you died on or around the singularity,” Junior said, spread out on the living room floor surrounded by papers and three laptops. “All three came back more than a decade before it happened. All three used your second chance to prevent the catastrophe.”
“That could be coincidence.”
“No, it couldn’t. The probability of three random people independently doing the exact thing needed to prevent an existential catastrophe is—” He typed rapidly. “Effectively zero. Something selected you. Something chose the three people most capable of solving the problem and gave them the tools to do it.”
“You’re describing intelligent design.”
“I’m describing pattern recognition. Dad, what if the regression isn’t a glitch? What if it’s a feature? A self-correction mechanism built into reality itself?”
Dojun sat down. The living room floor was covered in his son’s work, and for a moment, he saw Baek’s mathematics-covered wall. The same intensity. The same fearless questioning.
“A cosmic immune system,” Junior continued. “When reality faces an existential threat—something that would end everything—it responds by sending corrective agents back to prevent it. Not randomly. Specifically. The people best positioned to fix the problem.”
“If that’s true, then the regression wasn’t a gift. It was a response. Like white blood cells rushing to an infection.”
“Exactly. And if we can understand the mechanism, we can predict when it might activate again. Or—” Junior paused, looking at his father with the dangerous excitement of a mind that had just seen a possibility. “—we can make it unnecessary.”
“How?”
“By building systems that prevent existential threats before they happen. Not just the Mirror Protocol—a comprehensive framework for identifying and neutralizing catastrophic risks. Climate collapse, asteroid impacts, engineered pandemics, misaligned AI. If we can see the threats coming and address them proactively, reality won’t need to send people back in time to fix things.”
“You want to make regressors obsolete.”
“I want to make a world that doesn’t need them. A world where the problems get solved the first time around.” Junior looked at his father. “Isn’t that what your second chance was for? Not to live forever—to build something that works without you?”
Dojun stared at his son. Seventeen years old. Three weeks to crack military-grade encryption. And now, proposing a framework to make time travel unnecessary.
“You know,” Dojun said, “your mother was right. You are more interesting than me.”
“Obviously,” Junior said. “Now help me with the math.”