The third year of high school should've been better. But for Ian, Claire, Wes, and Nora, the monotonous grind of history class was like being forced to relive someone else's misery on loop. And their teacher, Mr. Henson, made sure to dig the knife deeper, spinning dull tales of battles and treaties like he relished their suffering.

Ian, the class clown, spent most of the lessons doodling wild cartoons in his notebook, while Claire, always cold and guarded, buried herself in her phone under the desk, pretending to care. Wes, with his mismatched thrift-store wardrobe and a chip on his shoulder, would mutter sarcastic commentary under his breath. And then there was Nora—bright, chaotic, and unapologetically herself—who often led the group's whispered debates about whether Mr. Henson was secretly an alien sent to torment them.

What they all had in common, though, was an unspoken rule: History sucked. And somehow, their shared rebellion against it had forged a bond none of them had expected.

It was one of those lazy Thursday evenings when the streets were eerily empty. The four of them had decided to blow off steam after school. Ian had dared them all to race to the corner store, and before anyone could argue, they were sprinting down the deserted street, laughter and shouts echoing into the night.

"This is so dumb," Claire called out, a rare smile flickering on her face.

"Yeah, but you're still running!" Ian shot back, barely dodging a parked car.

Wes trailed behind, panting. "This is why people take gym seriously. You maniacs are killing me!"

Nora, ahead of them all, threw her arms up like she'd just won a marathon. "Come on, losers! I'm—"

The blinding headlights came out of nowhere. A cab, too fast for an empty street, skidded toward them, brakes screeching.

There wasn't time to scream, to think, to react.

Impact.

And then, nothing.

When Ian opened his eyes, he wasn't on the street anymore. Instead, he was surrounded by endless darkness. A weightless, timeless void.

"Where the hell—?"

The others were there too, their forms flickering like static on a broken TV.

"Is this…death?" Claire asked, her voice unnervingly calm.

"No," came a voice. It was deep, resonant, and echoed all around them. "Not yet."

They turned, trying to find the source, but there was nothing. Just the voice and the void.

"You've been chosen," it continued, "to fix what has been broken. Time itself is unraveling, threads cut by hands that should not touch it. You four will mend what has been undone."

"Wait, wait, wait," Wes interrupted, holding up his hands. "We got hit by a cab, and now we're time janitors? What kind of afterlife scam is this?"

The voice ignored him. "You are not alive. But you are not dead. If you refuse, I will rewind your fates to the moment of impact. You will die, and time will collapse."

"That's not much of a choice," Claire muttered, crossing her arms.

The entity seemed to pause, as if considering their hesitation. "This is no punishment. You will be given tools, gifts to aid you. But the path ahead is not easy. Decide now."

Nora, ever the loudest, broke the silence. "What happens if we say yes?"

"Then you will wake in your beds, as though this night never happened. But the world will call for you soon enough."

Ian glanced at the others, his usual humor replaced by a rare seriousness. "We're really doing this, huh?"

Claire sighed. "Do we even have a choice?"

"Fine," Wes muttered. "But I'm blaming all of you when this blows up in our faces."

"Then it is decided."

In an instant, the void collapsed.

Ian's alarm clock blared at 6:00 AM. He jolted upright, heart racing.

His room looked the same, down to the pile of clothes on the floor. For a moment, he thought it had all been a dream—until his phone buzzed.

Group Chat: The Chaos Crew

Nora: Okay, seriously, did that just happen??

Claire: I woke up at the exact same time as you all. What the hell.

Wes: Yeah, because time gods are totally normal. Someone tell me I'm hallucinating.

Ian stared at the screen, his pulse quickening. His friends were just as freaked out as he was.

"Great," he muttered. "Now we're stuck saving time itself. Awesome."

Outside, the world carried on like nothing had happened. But something had changed. And whatever it was, it had already started.