Who Is The Protagonist In 'Variation'?

The protagonist of 'Variation' is a guy named Rex, who starts off as this average college student until he gets thrown into a wild experiment that changes everything. He's not your typical hero—no tragic backstory or destiny nonsense. Just a regular dude who suddenly gains the ability to manipulate probability. Small stuff at first, like rigging dice rolls or dodging rain, but it escalates fast. The cool part? His power grows based on how much risk he takes. The more he gambles, the stronger it gets. But the drawback is brutal—every use drains his lifespan. Makes every decision a high-stakes game. Rex's personality shifts from cautious to borderline reckless as the story progresses, which creates some intense moral dilemmas. The author does a great job showing how power corrupts subtly, not with evil cackles but through gradual justification of worse actions.

Rex Carter in 'Variation' is one of those protagonists who makes you question what you'd do in his shoes. At first glance, he's unremarkable—middle-class background, decent grades, no real ambitions. Then the lab accident happens, and boom: he can tweak odds in his favor. Not just luck, though. The power's tied to quantum mechanics (the author actually consulted physicists for this), letting Rex nudge reality itself. Early chapters show him exploiting it for petty stuff—winning lotteries, avoiding traffic tickets. But when his best friend gets terminal cancer? That's where it gets dark. He starts calculating lives like poker chips, weighing how much lifespan to burn for bigger miracles.

The side characters really highlight Rex's flaws. His girlfriend Lena calls him out for playing god, while his rival Dr. Kessler (who runs the experiment that created him) sees Rex as proof humanity isn't ready for such power. The latter half of the novel has Rex manipulating stock markets and election outcomes, convincing himself it's for 'the greater good.' What stuck with me was the ending—no spoilers, but it involves a Russian roulette scene where the gun has 5 bullets instead of 1. That's Rex's whole deal: escalating risks until there's almost no way to win.

If you like protagonists with slippery morality, this is a must-read. It's less about flashy superpowers and more about the psychological toll of having them. The author nails how addiction works—Rex's internal monologue starts rationalizing increasingly dangerous power uses just like a gambler chasing losses. Makes you wonder if the real 'variation' is how far a person can change when given unlimited leverage over chance.

Rex from 'Variation' is what happens when you give a math nerd reality-warping abilities. His power isn't just 'make good things happen'—it's precise, almost clinical. He perceives probability as actual percentages (like seeing a 73% chance his coffee will spill), then shaves off unfavorable odds. This leads to some brilliant writing where minor decisions have huge consequences. Early on, he avoids a car crash by reducing the odds from 8% to 0.2%, unaware that the crash would've delayed him from meeting a future school shooter. Later, he realizes his power's feedback loop: every intervention creates new variables he can't fully predict.

The novel contrasts Rex with two other test subjects who got different variations of the same power. Sarah manipulates causality directly but goes insane from perceiving infinite timelines, while Mark's version is weaker but stable. Rex sits in the middle—powerful enough to change the world, but not enough to control the fallout. His arc is basically a slow-motion train wreck; you keep waiting for him to stop before the inevitable disaster. The lab scenes hint his power might be sentient, feeding him 'ideas' for riskier plays. Chilling stuff.

For fans of psychological sci-fi, this is a gem. It's like 'Death Note' meets 'The Monkey's Paw,' with a protagonist who isn't evil but becomes terrifying through rational choices. The author avoids exposition dumps—Rex's deteriorating mental state shows through his narration becoming increasingly fragmented when using his ability. Small details, like him subconsciously adjusting odds while asleep, make the power feel like a creeping disease rather than a gift.