Climbing the Tower that Even the Regressor Couldn’t

After a night of heavy drinking, my friend collapsed and muttered something bizarre when he came to. “Suhyuk, listen… I’ve traveled back in time.” His words sent chills down my spine, especially considering we’d been joking about impossible scenarios earlier. The Tower looming in the distance seemed to pulse faintly as he spoke, its upper floors shrouded in mist no climber had ever breached. Even legendary challengers had failed to conquer its heights, their names erased from history. Yet here he was, claiming knowledge beyond our present reality. His glassy eyes held an unsettling certainty as he described events that hadn’t happened yet. The bartender nervously wiped glasses, pretending not to hear our conversation. Outside, the Tower’s shadow stretched unnaturally far across the cityscape. My drink suddenly tasted bitter, though I’d ordered the same whiskey as always. The air grew thick with unspoken implications – if he truly had returned from the future, what catastrophic failure awaited us all? And why was the Tower at the center of his fragmented warnings?