'Alen Hampson, the boy who's been the shame of Quantum Academy, finally got an Emo.'
The words spread like wildfire through the corridors of the Academy. Whispers, gasps, and subtle glances followed Alen wherever he went. From the lowest tier of students to the cafeteria staff, everyone knew now.
But Alen… he barely noticed.
His mind was lost in a whirlwind of its own—untouched by rumors or reactions. He walked out of the infirmary with some basic medication, the white bandage peeking from under his hair, and made his way toward the BTP—Bureau of Time Police.
From taking the interlinked sky-trains to standing on the gliding white marble disks known as "Streets," Alen journeyed through the sprawling lanes of Sector 9. As the street floated silently toward the edge of the Old District, Alen's eyes landed on the looming structure of the Bureau.
Unlike the sleek and futuristic towers of the Academy, the BTP building was old-fashioned—worn bricks, visible metal screws, and tech panels that seemed a century behind. It looked like a relic from a time that didn't belong.
As he stood outside its heavy iron gates, a sudden wave of panic hit him.
The happiness that had warmed his heart earlier evaporated like mist. His lips trembled as he stared up at the Bureau's emblem.
"Wait… what if someone comes to claim you? What if your real partner is out there searching for you?" he muttered aloud, his voice trembling.
The furball—Momo—sat atop his head, unmoving.
Alen began pacing. "What should I do? What if this is a misunderstanding? What if I've accidentally stolen someone's Emo?"
Everyone in the multiverse knew that Emos were bound souls—extensions of a person's very identity. Losing one was akin to losing a part of your body. The Bureau treated cases of missing Emos with the highest priority. And right now, Alen looked like the biggest criminal in their books.
"Wait, wait—I still haven't submitted my mission report!" His mind raced faster than the floating disks. "If I step inside, what'll happen?"
And then—scenarios began to play in his head...
Scene 1:
Alen steps into the Bureau with a bright smile. Momo sits atop his head.
Bang! Four Continuum Trackers wearing black suits point guns at him.
"You've kidnapped an Emo! You should die!"
Pew pew!
He dies dramatically. "What a horrible way to go," he mutters in his vision, as imaginary blood spurts from his chest.
Boom.
Scene 2:
He steps inside and is instantly surrounded by the Temporal Examiners.
"You're under arrest for unauthorized possession of an Emo."
They slap cuffs on him.
Guilty! Life sentence in Temporal Jail!
Scene 3:
He walks in and trips.
Thud!
He falls into a random open portal—Black Water Prison!
A place where multiverse's most dangerous criminals are cryogenically frozen.
Before he can scream, they yank the Emo from his head and the portal closes.
"Goodbye, cruel world."
Alen turned pale. His knees wobbled. "Today's the best and worst day of my life," he sighed.
Momo peered down from his head, his tiny paw brushing Alen's forehead. "Momo~?"
Alen sighed deeply. "Yeah... I'm gonna die soon."
He debated leaving Momo at the apartment. Maybe if he dropped him off, no one would notice. But the news of him acquiring an Emo had already spread like a virus. Someone had surely described the little creature's snow-white fur by now.
"Even if I hide you, I'm already doomed…"
Just then, a loud sound jolted him.
The doors to the Bureau burst open. Mrs. Broody, the middle-aged operations coordinator of BTP, ran out with a sheet of paper in her hand and panic etched on her face like she had just seen a black hole forming in the sky.
She skidded to a stop in front of him, gasping. "Alen—hah—Alen! It's an emergency!"
Alen's blood drained from his face. "Wha–what kind of emergency?"
She shoved the paper into his chest. "An underground research lab's been discovered. Full of… dismembered human parts. It was already vacated by the time TKA officers arrived—but high-level involvement is suspected. Serious stuff."
Alen's eyes widened as images flashed in his mind—severed limbs, corrupted timelines, criminal syndicates.
Mrs. Broody's eyes narrowed as she caught sight of the bandage on his head. "Wait... what happened to you?"
Alen shook his head quickly. "It's nothing serious."
She exhaled, clearly unsure.
"Anyway," she continued, pressing the file into his hands, "because of the emergency, all senior officers are occupied. You're the only agent available. You're going."
Alen blinked. "Wait… what?"
"It's a basic case," she said. "Just an observation mission. Go to Earth-1232, collect some data, submit your report. Shouldn't be hard."
Her voice grew serious. "Look me in the eye, Alen. We need someone on this. And you're the only one right now."
Behind her, a group of TKA Temporal Officers moved like shadows—clean-cut, sharp-eyed, and cold. One of them motioned toward her. Her time was up.
She turned to Alen one last time, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I couldn't gather more intel, but I trust you'll handle it. I'll give you extra points for this one." And just like that, she spun around and disappeared with the agents.
Alen stood frozen.
The file trembled in his hands, but his eyes were fixed on the officers in black.
This was the first time he had seen Temporal Officers of TKA in real life. The tension in the air… the urgency… it made his gut twist. This wasn't a "simple".
Still, it wasn't his place to question.
His thoughts spiraled so far that he forgot all about Momo, about potential criminal charges, about his imaginary death scenes—
Buzz Buzz
His watch lit up.
Incoming Call: Aunty Li
Alen's soul nearly left his body.
"Oh no... the dorm," he muttered, remembering the state he left his room in. Today was Dorm Inspection Day.
And in that instant, he took off running.
Alen sprinted through the narrow walkways and hover-platforms of the dormitory sector, babbling to himself.
"No no no—I forgot to hide the claw marks! The chair! The curtain—ahh, the noodles on the wall!"
Momo clung to his head, fur flapping in the wind as they raced past confused students and scanning drones.
By the time Alen reached Dorm B-17, Aunty Li was already standing in the hallway, arms crossed, wearing the official warden uniform—badge gleaming, frown sharpened to perfection.
She tapped her foot as he approached. "Alen Hampson," she said sternly. "You care to explain why your room looks like it hosted a battle between a raccoon and a tornado?"
"I—uh, see, it's not what it looks like!" Alen said, panting. "It's my friend's cat. I was watching it for a day. He's... uhh... a mutant breed. Very energetic."
Aunty Li raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Claw marks on the ceiling, Mr. Hampson?"
Alen winced. "He's also a climber. Incredible vertical leap."
She scanned his face with a long sigh, the corner of her mouth twitching. This was the first time Alen, the most rule-abiding student in the building, had done anything remotely chaotic.
"You've always been a decent kid," she muttered, finally. "So I'll let it go. This time. But next time that mutant jungle creature causes trouble, I'll report you straight to the Dorm Oversight Committee."
Alen bowed repeatedly. "Yes, thank you, Aunty Li! I promise! No more cats, no more climbing, no more ceiling chaos!"
He waved nervously as she turned and walked away.
Once the coast was clear, he slammed the door shut and whirled around, eyes locking on the cr creature as he innocently jumped on his bed.
"You!" he growled.
Momo's ears perked up. "Momo?"
A dark, sinister aura pulsed behind Alen as he approached slowly, finger raised like a disappointed father. "If you ever do that again... I will personally banish you to the another Dimension."
Momo bowed its head guiltily, shrinking in size as it trembled.
"Good," Alen huffed, satisfied—until reality struck again.
Wait.
That thing… was his now.
His official Emo.
"…Ahem," he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well... It's okay. Just, um… don't break anything again."
Momo let out a cheerful chirp.
With a sigh, Alen changed course and walked toward his wardrobe. He gently took out his uniform from his bag given by Professor John.
He held it in his hands for a moment, staring at it.
A soft smile touched his lips.
Then, without another word, he carefully hung it and rolled up his sleeves.
The room needed cleaning.
It took him hours to fix the mess. He scrubbed off claw marks from the walls, patched holes with adhesive wallpaper, removed the torn curtain, and replaced it with an old spare. The shredded chair leg got reinforced with metal rods. Even the bed got fresh sheets and blankets.
By the time he was done, night had fallen.
The papers from Mrs. Broody sat on his desk, slightly curled at the edges from the room's humidity. The soft hum of his table fan joined the sizzling of vegetables in the pan. A gentle warmth filled the room as Alen moved between the stove and the tiny table.
He made a small plate of food for himself—and one for Momo, who was now lounging inside a drawer.
Finally, he sat down on a patched-up chair, legs creaking under his weight. The table lamp glowed dimly above him, casting a golden circle of light around the worn Bureau report.
He picked it up.
The official insignia of the Bureau of Time Police shone faintly under the light. He read slowly, every word echoing in his brain:
BUREAU OF TIME POLICE – TEMPORAL MISSION REPORT
Destination: Earth-1232
Issue: Multiple branches of unknown timelines detected.
Task: Investigate and submit a report to BTP. Interference in the timeline is strictly prohibited.
Warning: Officer is instructed to maintain peaceful relations with the alternate universe population and to ensure the secrecy of TKA's existence.
Alen stared at the page, brows furrowed.
"Wait… was she serious?" he whispered. "She really gave this kind of mission to me?"
His fingers tightened around the edges of the paper.
This wasn't just some backup assignment. The report described multiple timeline branches—potential time fractures, deviations, and ripple effects. Missions like this were meant for elite officers, not the so-called 'shame of the Academy.'
He leaned back in the chair, heart thumping, eyes locked on the flickering light above.
Momo quietly hopped onto the table, resting its tiny head on the edge of the document.
"Finally?" Alen whispered.
And maybe… just maybe… the world had decided it was time to test the boy who everyone thought didn't belong.