Charlie Kirk and the Light Beyond Time

A Short Story in Tribute

Chapter One

The Beginning

Matthew labored in his workshop, sweat beading on his brow and streaming down his weary frame. His clothes clung to him, soaked through; his limbs ached, his head throbbed. Yet he pressed on. Though the world had changed, the trials felt timeless. He believed — no, he knew that he could return to that pivotal day. The one that had shaped everything.

The theories, as ever, remained unchanged. Time travel to the past, in principle, was possible through an Einstein-Rosen bridge, also known as a wormhole. Yet such a journey demanded space travel, which, ironically, was the least of the obstacles. The true challenge lay in locating a wormhole to begin with, and harder still, in steering it to a precise point in space and time.

There were also the Closed Timelike Curves —pathways that bent time back upon itself, allowing a traveler to remain anchored to the moving planet while travelling temporally. But these required two colossal, rotating black holes, which are far beyond Matthew’s reach.

Some theorists pointed to tachyon particles, hypothetical entities that exceed the speed of light and might pierce the veil of time. But even in 2085, tachyons remained speculative, elusive as ever.

No, Matthew believed, if it was to be done at all, then it would be through cosmic strings. Infinitesimal filaments of immense energy, relics of the universe’s birth. Unlike other theories that demanded unfathomable power, string theory offered a subtler path. The energy was not something to be generated, it was already there, woven into the strings themselves. All that remained was to accelerate them and align their trajectory. If he could do that, the doorway to the past might finally open.

That night, Matthew lay in bed, the equations looping endlessly through his mind. Manipulating cosmic strings was the simple part. The true complexity lay in calculating Earth’s precise position in the vast, shifting tapestry of space. A single misstep, a fraction of error, and the consequences would be catastrophic. He could materialize in the vacuum of space… or inside solid concrete. For Matthew, it was worth the risk.

His thoughts drifted backward, unbidden, to the moment that had defined his life. He had been just a child, wide-eyed and helpless when he witnessed it. Not an accident. A murder. A man struck down before his eyes. That image had never left him; it clung to his memory like smoke.

“I can save him,” he whispered into the dark.

Chapter Two

One-Way to Yesterday

The following morning, Matthew composed a letter to his son.

“When I began this journey, you called me mad. Today, we will discover if you were right. This is a one-way voyage. If I succeed, history will be rewritten, and your future, brighter than ever.

After my mission, I intend to seek out my beloved parents, whose absence has weighed on me for years. I long to tell them how deeply I regret not treasuring every moment we shared. I want to return the love they gave so freely and finally speak the words I never found the courage to say. Do not mourn me. I will be at peace.

If, by some miracle, the machine remains intact, and I have not reduced myself to stardust, please dismantle it. Let it vanish with me. The legal documents are processed. Everything I have is now yours.

I love you son.”

Matthew packed his belongings with methodical precision, slipping a paper binder into this backpack in case his flex film failed or was lost. Crafting the binder had proven nearly as arduous as constructing the time machine itself. Paper, and the means to print upon it, were antiquated artifacts in his era. He forced down a meal, though his stomach resisted. His body needed fuel, even if his mind was too consumed to feel hunger.

In the shop, he moved with quiet resolve, triple-checking every setting on the device. No errors. No anomalies. Just the hum of readiness. He stepped onto the X, a simple mark on the floor that now held the weight of destiny. With a steady breath, he activated the string accelerator.

Chapter Three

A New Beginning

“God, use me for your will.”

The words echoed through the haze as Matthew struggled to regain his bearings. Disoriented, yet certain he’d heard them, he blinked against the sterile light. The journey had felt like nothing — no motion, no rupture — just a quiet shift in reality.

Now he stood in an empty college lecture hall. Rows of vacant seats stretched before him, silent witnesses to his arrival. At the front, a lone man knelt in prayer, his posture reverent, his voice hushed. He looked up, startled, his eyes wide with disbelief at the figure who had appeared from nowhere.

Matthew remained silent. The moment hung suspended, as if the air itself were holding its breath. Then, with deliberate calm, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a small box. He unfolded the flex film, and in an instant, luminous holograms bloomed into the air. They were more than holograms, Charlie seemed woven into the very fabric of the three-dimensional marvels of a world yet to come. Cities suspended in the sky, medicine that healed in seconds, machines that thought like men.

“My name is Matthew. I’m not here to harm you,” Matthew said gently. “I am a great admirer of your work. I have come from the future.”

Charlie rose slowly to his feet, torn between instinct and curiosity. His hand hovered near the door, where security waited just outside. But something deeper, something unspoken, urged him to stay.

“You expect me to believe you’re from the future?” Charlie asked, his voice edged with disbelief.

“If I weren’t,” Matthew replied, gesturing to the shimmering projections around them, “how could I show you these wonders? Have you ever seen technology like this in your time?

“If you’re truly from the future,” Charlie said, his voice steady but skeptical, “then what do you want?”

Matthew met his gaze without flinching. “I’m here to save you, Charlie Kirk.”

The words hung in the air like a verdict. Charlie’s breath caught—part disbelief, part instinctive dread. He had no idea what he needed saving from, but something in Matthew’s eyes told him it was already in motion.

Chapter Four

The Moment That Made Us

“If you step outside,” Matthew said, his voice low and unwavering, “you will be killed. Your wife will be a widow. Your children fatherless.”

Charlie froze, the words slicing through him like ice.

“I’m out there too,” Matthew continued. “Five years old. Watching it happen. Watching you fall. That moment shaped everything. It haunted me. It drove me. And now I’m here to change it.”

Charlie inhaled sharply, a breath thick with fear, disbelief, and the crushing weight of possibility. The room felt smaller, the silence louder. Somewhere deep inside, something shifted. Charlie’s breath trembled as he stared at Matthew, the weight of the revelation pressing down like gravity. Outside that door, fate waited with a loaded gun. Inside, time itself had bent to offer a second chance.

“You saw it happen?” Charlie asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I lived it,” Matthew replied. “That moment etched itself into my soul. I have spent a lifetime chasing the science, the theory, the impossible — just to stand here now and stop it.”

“Stop what?” Charlie snapped, his voice sharp with disbelief. “I’m just a commentator. I can’t possibly matter enough for someone to actually kill me."

Matthew didn’t flinch. Instead, he adjusted the flex film, his fingers steady, his expression solemn. “Let me show you something,” he said quietly. “You’re far more important than you realize. Your death sparked a global reckoning.”

The holographic display shimmered, then shifted. Suddenly, Charlie stood amidst a sea of light — three-dimensional images of candlelit vigils, crowds gathered in silent tribute. Cities across the United States, universities, nations around the globe. Faces filled with grief, resolve, and unity.

“You became a symbol,” Matthew said softly. “Not merely of loss  — but of awakening. Your death ignited a revolution rooted in peace and love. A movement where all were welcome, yet the irrational grip of the woke minority was no longer indulged. Because of you, people began to think freely. Education returned to enlightenment. Medicine to healing. Religion to reverence.”

He paused, letting the weight of history settle.

“In time, the plutocracy crumbled. K Street was silenced. Politics became a calling to serve, not a ladder to climb. The old parties dissolved — Republican, Democrat, replaced by unification parties, where common ground mattered more than fringe grievances.”

As Matthew spoke, the flex film shimmered with vivid projections. Charlie watched his wife take up his torch, her strength radiant as she led the charge. Turning Point USA surged with young voices — brave, articulate, multiplying across campuses like wildfire.

He saw his children grow, inheriting the mission from their mother, carrying it forward with conviction. Then, his wife remarried. Charlie understood, they were young when he died. The man seemed kind. She looked happy. And that made Charlie smile.

He watched his children age, raise families of their own. He saw a world transformed — not perfect, but closer to utopia than he had ever imagined. A world where flawed humans had chosen something better.

And in that moment, Charlie understood: his life had mattered.

“I have to go now,” Charlie said, his voice solemn, resolute.

“Go where?” Matthew asked, dread rising in his chest. “You’re not going out there to speak, are you?”

Charlie nodded.

“Even with security alerted, this is bigger than a lone gunman. If you walk out there, Charlie… you will die,” Matthew said, his voice cracking under the weight of desperation.

Charlie met his gaze; eyes filled with quiet sympathy and unwavering respect. “I know.”

Matthew’s composure shattered. “How can you do this after everything that I showed you?” he cried.

Charlie stepped forward and embraced him gently, the gesture tender and final. He leaned in and whispered, “After everything you showed me… how could I not?”

Charlie turned away, opened the door, and stepped into the light.