Teleportation, it turned out, was not as elegant as it looked in the movies.
Especially when done by a sentient obelisk with a passive-aggressive tone.
"WHO EVEN PROGRAMS THIS THING?!" someone yelled mid-air over France.
Amihan plummeted feet-first toward the Louvre, flipping wildly as gravity remembered how to function again. With sheer panic and a last-minute gust, she managed to land on a tourist's selfie stick, leaving behind a gust of wind and a horrified influencer.
"Oh my god, it's the storm influencer girl!" someone screamed in French.
"Don't post that," Amihan gasped, brushing twigs out of her ponytail. "I'm not even verified."
Inside the Louvre, Zeinab Hossam, part-time curator and full-time unofficial time guardian, was busy regretting her career choices. The Rosetta Stone floated three inches off its pedestal, reciting ancient Egyptian court poetry in suspiciously perfect British English.
The entire Egyptian wing had gone full glitch mode.
One sarcophagus vibrated like it was ready to DJ a rave. Time glitched around a toddler who walked backward into a display case. Paintings blinked. An urn sneezed.
And then, tourists started taking selfies with things that weren't quite from this dimension.
Zeinab took off her glasses. "Nope."
A holographic message shimmered above the Rosetta Stone in bold golden serif:
"TIMELINE MERGE IN PROGRESS: EGYPT + FRANCE. Error Code 13: Cultural Compression."
Team Atlas arrived in pairs, scattered like a dramatic flash mob.
Luz touched down in front of the Mona Lisa, whispering apologies to da Vinci. Mateo phased through three security barriers with his mate gourd and eternal politeness. Jax crashed into a holographic display on French warfare and shouted, "I come in peace—and broadband!"
Adi descended with wings of Garuda flame, accidentally setting off the Louvre's fire suppression system and a small child's imagination. Anaya followed, her Sanskrit chant repairing a staircase mid-collapse. Ellie appeared through a swirl of London fog and placed a teacup on a bust of Julius Caesar like it was a crown.
Noah materialized on a shelf in the gift shop, knocking down Eiffel Tower mugs. "Sorry! I'll pay—wait, I don't have euros."
Rami simply walked through the front door. No smoke. No sparks. Just flawless hair and a polite nod to security.
The last to arrive, Amihan, pointed dramatically toward the Rosetta Stone. "Possessed! Who's got an exorcism license?!"
The Stone pulsed.
Napoleon's ghost emerged from a tapestry, locked in an argument with a bandaged mummy. Hieroglyphs streamed across 18th-century portraits. The air conditioning unit started whispering in Arabic.
Amihan spun a funnel of wind into her palms. "I can contain this. But I need synergy."
"Synergy?" Ellie blinked, fog swirling around her head like a halo. "You want a culturally-integrated group project?"
"Yes!" Amihan shouted over the rising storm. "But magical!"
"What's next, a Google Doc of Destiny?" Mateo quipped.
"Less sass, more action!" Luz summoned three ancestral spirits who immediately began ballroom dancing in an attempt to pacify the Louvre's energy.
Mateo took a long, meditative sip of mate and paused time—just for three seconds. Just long enough to reposition Jax, who plugged his gauntlet into a power socket.
"Uploading national pride!"
Adi invoked a Javanese epic, casting a protective circle of flame around the artifact. Anaya chanted mantras into the Louvre's speakers, shifting the chaotic static to soothing tanpura tones. Ellie added bergamot tea vapor to the air. Calm spread. Existential dread remained.
Noah flung aurora-shields over the exits, forming a giant glowing maple leaf that shimmered in the sky. Meanwhile, Rami spoke Arabic verse so gracefully, the walls began humming in tune.
The Rosetta Stone cracked into three glowing fragments—each reciting a different version of the same phrase in Greek, Demotic, and Hieroglyphic.
Then, a thin silk thread appeared mid-air. From its end stepped a woman in flowing red.
Her presence was absolute.
紅緣 (Hóng Yuán) did not walk. She glided.
"You've delayed the merge," she said in flawless Mandarin. "But the weave is fraying."
Amihan eyed her cautiously. "Who are you?"
"A stitch in the wrong place."
And with that, Hóng Yuán flicked her fingers. The threads vanished.
The glitches receded like spilled tea being sucked back into the cup. Tourists blinked. The Rosetta Stone settled back onto its pedestal, pretending it had never levitated. Curators blamed it on faulty lighting and magnetic waves.
Outside the Louvre, the group gathered by a street hotdog stand.
"Well," Jax muttered around a baguette. "That went better than any UN meeting I've ever seen."
"Speak for yourself," Mateo said. "I think time tried to kiss me."
"I don't want to alarm anyone," Luz added, eyes still scanning the skyline, "but I think the Eiffel Tower just blinked."
"So…" Ellie stirred invisible sugar into invisible tea. "We have a threat. A time-stitcher. Cultural compression. Floating rocks that talk in remix."
Rami tilted his head. "And no official support from any known organization."
"Welcome to the freelance superhero economy," Amihan said, rubbing a sore ankle.
They stood in silence for a moment, the distant chime of Notre-Dame echoing through the city.
"We need a team name," someone muttered.
"Team Chaos?" offered Noah.
"Team Glitch?" Luz suggested.
"Team Dramatic International Culture Squad?" Jax raised a hopeful hand.
"I vote Atlas Oddity," Ellie said softly, watching the tea leaves spiral mid-air.
It stuck.
And with that, the Eiffel Tower, in the distance, shivered.