The Man Who Remembered Tomorrow
February 14, 2025
The first time Leo died, he woke up six hours earlier.
He sat bolt upright in his cot aboard the ISS Horizon, gasping for air, his mind reeling. The last thing he remembered was a warning siren. A fire in the oxygen bay. The acrid taste of smoke in his lungs. The overwhelming heat—then nothing.
But now… he was here. Alive.
Leo stumbled out of bed, his heart hammering. The station was calm, the overhead lights humming as usual. His crewmates—Dr. Patel and Commander Harlan—were in the galley, chatting over breakfast. No fire. No alarms.
“Leo?” Patel looked up. “You okay?”
Leo stared at her. “The fire. In the oxygen bay. We—” He stopped himself. “Did anything happen last night?”
Harlan frowned. “No. Should it have?”
Leo swallowed hard. He had died. He was sure of it.
And yet… here he was.
The second time Leo died, he woke up twelve hours earlier.
Now, panic set in.
This time, he didn’t hesitate. He sprinted to the oxygen bay, ignoring his crewmates’ confused shouts. He pried open a maintenance panel, his fingers shaking as he pulled out the coolant valve—the one that, last time, had failed and triggered the fire.
It was already cracked.
His stomach twisted.
“Leo!” Harlan stormed in. “What the hell are you doing?”
Leo turned, breathless. “This valve is compromised. We need to replace it. If we don’t, the coolant fails, and a fire starts at 1900 hours.”
Patel crossed her arms. “How do you know that?”
“Because I’ve already died twice.”
Silence.
Then Harlan exhaled sharply. “You’re serious.”
Leo nodded. “I don’t know how, but every time I die, I wake up further in the past. I think… I think I’m supposed to stop it.“
Patel exchanged a glance with Harlan, then tapped her communicator. “Mission control, we have a potential systems failure. Requesting immediate diagnostics on the oxygen bay coolant line.”
Leo let out a breath.
Maybe this time would be different.
The third time Leo died, he woke up twenty-four hours earlier.
He screamed.
The station was quiet. Unchanged. Nothing he had done mattered.
He staggered into the galley, wild-eyed.
“Leo?” Patel stood up. “What’s wrong?”
He grabbed her by the shoulders. “It’s looping, Patel. No matter what I do, the disaster still happens. We die, and I wake up earlier.“
Patel’s face paled. “Then… what are we missing?”
Leo clenched his jaw. “I don’t know. But I think I have one more chance before I wake up before I even boarded this mission.”
He looked at her, eyes dark with determination.
“And I won’t remember any of it.”