Juno had never seen time scream before.
Not with sound—no, it was deeper than that. The air bent, light warped, and a high-pitched vibration buzzed in her bones as she and Milo stepped into the distortion zone.
The man in the trench coat—Darren Cole, according to the cracked ID tag on one of the duplicates exited the diner again, fifth time since they'd arrived. This version stumbled into a mailbox and glitched, literally flickering out of sync with the world before snapping back into step.
"Every loop's getting worse," Milo said, activating his chronowatch. "The loop point is somewhere inside that diner. Whatever happened in there broke his personal timeline."
Juno twirled the Divider in her fingers, letting it resonate. It vibrated like a tuning fork, drawing her toward something just left of the front entrance.
"The anchor point's close. I feel it."
"Then don't wait." Milo drew a small baton that shimmered with glowing lines a Tempo Baton, used to stun time anomalies without erasing them. "I'll hold the clones outside. You go in. Find what shattered."
"Right," Juno muttered. "Solo mission. First day. Definitely not panicking."
She slipped inside.
The diner was quiet. Too quiet.
Frozen patrons sat at tables, caught mid-conversation. One guy had a spoon hovering an inch from his mouth, milkshake suspended in a glass like colored ice. A woman blinked eternally, her eyes mid-close.
And in the booth near the back—
Juno saw him.
The original Darren Cole. Unlooped. Still.
He was mid-argument with someone—only that someone was just… gone. An empty seat across from him. A coffee cup steaming. A jacket draped over the cushion.
The Divider pulsed.
She approached slowly, her mind tugged in two directions—one toward the empty chair, the other toward Darren's still form.
Then the ghost arrived.
The figure shimmered into existence a woman, maybe mid-30s, wearing a red coat and a furious expression. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. She slammed her hands on the table.
Darren flinched. Froze. His mouth opened—
And the loop reset.
BOOM, a wave of force hurled Juno backward. Her back hit the tiled wall. Plates rattled.
"Gah okay, yeah, loop confirmed," she coughed.
The Divider, still in her hand, began spinning, drawing a circle of light in the air.
"Got you," she whispered.
Inside the loop ring, a flickering image appeared: Darren, crying. The woman standing, leaving. Her hand brushing his. A moment so brief, so emotionally loaded, it cracked the second it existed.
"A heartbreak fracture," Juno breathed. "He lost someone. And his timeline wouldn't let go."
She held the Divider to the flicker. "Anchor point identified. Initiating sync."
The Divider hummed violently then stopped.
The moment solidified.
And with it, the entire diner came alive.
Patrons unfroze. Music played on the jukebox. Milkshake spilled. People shouted at the sudden reappearance of motion.
Juno stumbled out the door, blinking against the light.
Outside, Milo stood with six unconscious clones at his feet.
"You did it," he said.
"I loop-stitched a broken second," she panted, hands on her knees. "That earns me at least one free lunch."
Behind them, the original Darren emerged from the diner, rubbing his head. One timeline. One version.
Clean.
But high above, unnoticed, a shimmer opened in the clouds.
A clock hand pierced through, rotating silently in a sky that shouldn't tick.
Something had seen them.