Paris smelled like slightly burnt espresso, existentialism, and museum panic.
Team Atlas Oddity stood in an alley beside the Louvre, beneath a flickering streetlamp that buzzed in Morse code for "help." Amihan held a half-eaten hotdog like it was a stress ball. Ellie conjured an umbrella made of steam. Mateo picked chewing gum off his jacket with the precision of a surgeon.
"That," Rami finally said, adjusting his cufflinks, "was not in the itinerary."
"We had an itinerary?" Jax asked, mid-bite into his third baguette.
"It was theoretical," Rami said. "Like most peaceful international plans."
Noah sat on the curb, poking his portable portal generator. It was blinking red.
"This thing's fried. Probably from when I tried to shield us from cultural backlash."
"You mean when you made a giant maple leaf in the sky?" Luz asked.
"It was unintentional patriotism."
Zeinab Hossam, still catching her breath after the Louvre chaos, appeared holding two café lattes. She handed one to Amihan without asking.
"You kids are lucky I didn't call the Interdimensional Ethics Council," she said, sipping her drink. "They love red tape more than time travel."
"Wait," Amihan said, pointing with her hotdog. "That exists?"
"Unfortunately."
Behind them, the Louvre had returned to normal—mostly. One sarcophagus still sneezed occasionally, and a crying painting refused to stop until it got a solo exhibit.
"Okay," Adi said, hovering slightly off the ground. "So timeline merges are happening, Rosetta Stone nearly dropped the beat of doom, and a mysterious woman named Hóng Yuán shows up threading cosmic silk like it's a weekend hobby."
"That sums it," Anaya nodded. "And the scarf she wore was embroidered with constellations. Not random either. Star maps."
Jax perked up. "You think she can teleport us better than that passive-aggressive obelisk? My spine still hurts."
Mateo pulled out a folded map—a literal paper one—marked with glowing runes.
"The anomaly's spreading. We've got reports from Seoul, Kyoto, and a very loud thread from Buenos Aires warning about dancing llamas."
"That's normal in Argentina," Luz muttered.
"These llamas were speaking Ancient Greek."
A collective pause.
Ellie stirred her teacup without touching it. "Right. So the weave is fraying, time is getting drunk, and we need to patch it before we become a musical."
Amihan nodded slowly. "We need a base. Somewhere neutral. Safe. With good WiFi."
"And croissants," Jax added.
Rami cleared his throat. "I may know a place. It involves an old opera house, a very bored phantom, and a janitor who speaks in riddles."
Noah stood. "Lead the way. But if that phantom sings, I'm out."
The Sanctuary of Threads (Location: Underground Paris)
Hidden beneath the Opéra Garnier was a place stitched between timelines. Part bunker, part library, part chaotic Pinterest board of world relics, the Sanctuary was protected by an enchantment known as "Mild Inconvenience." Any intruder would be overcome by a sudden urge to go home and alphabetize their cereal.
The team entered through a secret elevator disguised as a vending machine. The code? Insert a baguette backwards while humming La Vie en Rose.
Inside, floating orbs of light illuminated shelves packed with scrolls, digital tablets, rune-carved phones, and one lonely Game Boy holding an entire Mesopotamian epic.
"Welcome to the in-between," Rami said, arms wide.
"Wow," Luz whispered. "It's like a museum curated by Wikipedia, Hogwarts, and Etsy."
In the center was a circular table made of petrified wood and starlight. Hóng Yuán stood beside it.
"You followed the thread," she said, not surprised.
"You vanished in Paris," Amihan said.
"I exist where weave tension is highest. Here, your presence does not warp the narrative."
Jax blinked. "Did we just get told we're not plot devices?"
Hóng Yuán gestured. A new screen appeared above the table. It showed overlapping timelines, some merging, others breaking off like shattered glass.
"The Atlas was not meant to open. But it has. The Oddity awakens."
"What is the Oddity?" Anaya asked.
Hóng Yuán's eyes shimmered. "A being. An idea. A glitch in creation. Long buried beneath storylines. And now—cracking through."
Mateo circled the table. "Can it be reasoned with?"
"Can you reason with a metaphor unraveling its own meaning?"
Jax raised a finger. "Okay, new rule. No more cryptic metaphysics before snacks."
Noah sighed. "So what's the mission?"
Hóng Yuán turned. "Contain the rupture. Restore balance. Anchor timelines before they collapse."
"Or become a musical," Ellie added.
Everyone groaned.
"Your next path leads to Kyoto," Hóng Yuán said. "There, a shrine is echoing with timelines never written."
Rami tilted his head. "Alternate futures?"
"Possible tomorrows," she replied. "One includes Jax becoming a sentient vending machine."
Jax turned pale. "That explains the dream I had about dispensing soda wisdom."
"Prepare," Hóng Yuán warned. "Kyoto holds not just clues—but counterparts."
The lights dimmed.
Ellie lifted her teacup. "To Kyoto, then. Where nothing weird will happen, I'm sure."
The Atlas Oddity was just beginning.