#3 #Regression
One-time rewind to the past. Returns to a point chosen by the apostle. Dissipates after use.
The power to turn back time—#Regression. I've seen so many protagonists blessed with this #Tag after binge-reading countless web novels. But one thing's for sure: it's a #Tag that shines in any situation. The ability to overturn even the most desperate moment.
"...There it is."
I couldn't help but grin. The same description floated before Jin So-yul on my tablet. Her eyes scanned it meticulously, line by line. Then she looked up. The golem's arms still loomed high. And the frozen time began to flow again.
How much longer until the smash? Her death was now a foregone conclusion. And yet, she was smiling. So beautifully, it struck me in that moment.
The other constellations started reacting. The ones who'd been mocking Jin So-yul moments ago suddenly shifting their tune. Had they sensed something off? Even so, she ignored them. Her eyes fixed solely ahead—on the golem poised to strike, and the #Tag info hovering before her.
"From the beginning—"
A short shout rang out.
"Again—!!!"
With that desperate cry, the #Tag blazed to life.
And so, the world stopped. No—precisely, it began rewinding.
A flood of constellation messages exploded in. The scoffers from moments ago now losing their minds. But it was already too late.
The observation screen began reverse playback. Like a film reel spinning backward. First, the 100th-floor battle rewound. The golem's smash lifted upward, Jin So-yul's wounds vanished. Fallen hunters rose, spilled blood returned to bodies, shattered cold weapons reformed intact.
The view pulled out of the Tower. Seoul's scenery flashed by in reverse. The sun set eastward, night turned to day, repeating. The dead rose. The Tower's floors decreased: 90th, 80th, 70th.
I watched it all in real time—the world flowing backward. 50th, 40th, 30th. With each drop, the world transformed. Those 149 fallen nations from the news? They rebuilt one by one.
20th, 10th, 5th. And then, the 1st. The Tower vanished like a dream after one night.
"..."
Soon, the screen showed an ordinary New Year's morning. The digital billboard read January 1, 2026.
It really rewound... for real.
I worked my mouth for a while, then closed it. A time before hunters, constellations, or any transcendent beings had revealed themselves.
In web novels, regression is usually from the protagonist's first-person view. Eyes close, they wake in the past, and the story restarts. But I witnessed it from a constellation's perspective. Nine years flashing back in fast-forward. Death turning to life, ruin to prosperity.
This was on another level from just reading a web novel.
Jin So-yul opened her eyes. She bolted upright reflexively. Glancing down slowly, she saw her unscarred body, soft hands, slender fingers greeting her. No blood, no wounds, no traces of battle.
She murmured at the full-length mirror on the wall.
That brief mutter carried thick, long-fermented emotion. She grabbed her smartphone from the nightstand and checked the date.
She read the numbers aloud, then turned to the window. Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains—a normal New Year's Day scene.
Jin So-yul slid from the bed and approached the window. Pulling back the curtains revealed Seoul's morning. Still an ordinary world. A world no one knew. Only we knew the Tower would appear in hours.
She muttered to herself, setting down the phone. She began pulling out comfortable clothes one by one. I panicked and squeezed my eyes shut. The sound of fabric brushing skin registered vividly. Swish, swish.
Soon, changed, she murmured softly.
But instinctively, I knew who she was addressing.
Observer of the 0th Dimension. The constellation she'd contracted with in the future—moments ago in the past. That was me.
Watching her tie her sneakers tightly at the door, a new window popped up on one side of the observation screen.
The #Tag had dissipated. Expected for a one-use item. But the apostle contract remained intact.
Apostle's #Regression activation has reset the branch timeline.
Reward: +2000 CP
First time seeing a Constellation Report. Some kind of evaluation of my actions? I had 650 CP before, so now 2650. Generous, or is regression special? Either way, as Jin So-yul fights on, points will accumulate. Someday, I could grant her a new #Tag.
But new #Tag slots cost 10,000 CP. Way short for now. On hold.
More importantly, one thing mattered.
"Is there a way to talk to Jin So-yul?"
Communication. I could observe her one-way, but not vice versa.
Come to think of it, unlimited emotion messages cost 5,000 CP. Others seemed limited. After fiddling with the constellation system, I got a harvest.
Send Cost: 50 CP / use
50 CP per message? Steep... But necessary. Use only when essential for now. Still, test one beforehand. Let her know I'm watching.
I pondered. What to say? She thanked me earlier. Reply to that.
Content: It's okay. I'm cheering for you.
Remaining CP: 2650 → 2600
A message appeared before Jin So-yul on screen.
So that's why "emotion expression." My words got tweaked. Expected—constellation cliché.
She paused tying her laces and let out a soft chuckle.
She looked up at the ceiling. I wasn't there, but it felt like she was gazing right at me.
Her voice trembled. Nothing like her tone on the 100th floor—purely human emotion.
She clasped her hands and bowed to the air. Tears welled in her eyes.
"..."
I watched silently. A hunter who'd fought alone for nine years without constellation support. A woman who'd finally grasped someone's hand at the end.
I couldn't fully grasp her tears' meaning—I wasn't her. But at least, she was smiling. Tears streaming, yet filled with hope.
After a long bow, she wiped her eyes, straightened up.
I couldn't answer. Even 50 CP adds up—can't waste.
With that self-assured reply, she opened the door and stepped out.