After finishing work, Kairi returned to his familiar room. Everything was the same—the desk, the computer screen, the bed against the wall—there wasn't a single sign that he had ever died. Yet that very normalcy felt disturbingly off, as if reality itself was deliberately hiding something.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, lowering his head, fingers interlocked. If regression was real… then there had to be a mechanism behind it. Something that operated, observed, or perhaps… controlled everything.
"…If I really regressed," Kairi muttered, "then there's no way a system doesn't exist…"
He raised his head, his gaze gradually sharpening.
"Come out. System."
A second of silence passed.
Then—
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
The sound of clock hands echoed, steady and precise. The space in front of him distorted slightly, as if something was forcing its way in from another layer of reality. A circular clock began to materialize, floating midair, its hands moving in an unnatural rhythm, emitting a faint, cold glow.
Kairi froze for a brief moment.
Then quickly regained his composure.
"…I see."
The clock spoke, its voice calm to the point of being emotionless.
"What does the host wish to ask?"
Kairi didn't hesitate.
"Why did I return to the past?"
A brief pause.
"You are one of the twelve entities designated as Time Breakers."
The room grew heavier.
"At all times, exactly twelve Time Breakers exist within the timeline. Each possesses a unique ability and is assigned to one of four primary classes."
The light from the clock flickered slightly.
"The Architects—those who manipulate systems: The Probabilist, The Lingerer, The Luck."
"The Hunters—those who hunt information: The Archivist, The Seer, The Echo."
"The Glitchers—those who manipulate reality: The Messiah, The Distortion, The Tracker."
"The Terminators—those who bring destruction: The Revenant, The Catalyst, The Surrogate."
Kairi listened silently before asking:
"The specific abilities?"
"Access denied. Only the user may know."
Kairi showed no reaction and continued:
"…So it's like a game, huh? Then are there any rules?"
The clock trembled faintly.
"Displaying rules."
The voice echoed—clear, steady, devoid of emotion.
Not everything is chaos. Even as anomalies, Time Breakers are bound by rules that even they cannot surpass.
First— fixed points in history are immutable. Certain events do not belong to any individual, but to humanity as a whole. If altered, fate will bend reality to restore them to their original course.
Second— every action has a cost. The butterfly effect is absolute. No future is ever certain.
Third— knowledge does not equal capability. Memories may be retained, but the body and cognitive limits remain.
Fourth— the number is absolute. There will always be exactly twelve Time Breakers, unless interference occurs through Appropriation.
Fifth— regression is not infinite. Each individual has a maximum of ten returns, unless extended through Appropriation.
Sixth— the birth of a Time Breaker cannot be prevented. Fate will always correct itself to restore balance. No one can kill a Time Breaker's parents before their birth, nor can they kill them before their regression.
Seventh— there exists a separate set of rules governing Succession and Appropriation.
And finally— time belongs to no one. Even if one can return, they remain only a part of the loop. In other words, when you die, others will continue living their lives until the loop resets—and only then will you be reborn.
Kairi fell silent for a few seconds, his eyes flickering slightly.
He raised his head.
"Succession and Appropriation?"
"Not all can carry the loop indefinitely. When the limit is reached, the rule of Succession is activated."
"Succession has two forms. One—a Time Breaker chooses a successor, and that person must kill them with their own hands."
"Two—if no choice is made, the system will forcibly select a nearby individual in despair, kill them, and turn them into a Time Breaker, returning them to the moment of their greatest despair. And of course, it takes 5 minutes to relinquish power."
Kairi's fingers tightened slightly.
"…Appropriation?"
"Power does not disappear. It is taken."
"Conditions for activation: the killer must clearly recognize the target as a Time Breaker and must intentionally kill that specific individual. Otherwise, the death is considered ordinary."
"One kill—grants five additional regressions and one immunity against erasure."
"Two kills—choose one: acquire the victim's knowledge or create a new anchor point."
"Three kills—upgrade one's ability by one rank."
Kairi said nothing.
The system continued, its tone unchanged.
"Ordinary humans may also participate in the hunt if they are aware that their target is a Time Breaker and understand regression. If successful, they will take one of the twelve positions, while inheriting all the pain—and the final death—of the victim."
"When the conditions for Appropriation are met and activated, the killed individual will be permanently erased from the loop."
The room grew colder.
Kairi exhaled slowly.
"…How many attempts do I have left?"
"You have eight regressions remaining. The previous holder used one. You have used one."
Kairi nodded slightly.
"…My class?"
The clock stopped for a single beat.
"The Catalyst—Manipulator of Causality, belonging to The Terminators."
Kairi's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Explain."
"Ability: envision a desired outcome. Fate will provide an object and an action keyword. If you use the correct object and perform the correct action according to the keyword, the result will occur within five minutes."
A brief pause.
"Limitation: once per day."
Silence filled the space.
Kairi stared at the clock, his mind operating at high speed.
Causality.
Conditions.
Outcome.
This wasn't the granting of power—
it was the enforcement of a script upon the world.
"…I see. So the piece of paper Sato was holding back then," he muttered.
There was no clear expression on his face.
But deep within his eyes—
something was changing.
Not fear.
Not confusion.
But—
calculation.
"…If that's the case," Kairi's lips curled slightly, his voice low and cold, "then this game… has begun."
The clock did not respond.
It simply continued ticking.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
And somewhere, beyond his sight—
others had already begun to move.