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Heartslabyul-Diasomnia Members Time Travel to the Future

The Collision of Crowns and Chaos

The air inside the Mirror Chamber at Night Raven College didn’t just shimmer; it groaned. It was a sound like tectonic plates of reality grinding together, a metallic shriek that set Riddle Rosehearts’ teeth on edge. He stood at the center of the gathered group, his hand gripping his staff so tightly his knuckles were white. Behind him, the usual suspects of chaos—Ace, Deuce, Trey, and Cater—were joined by the leaders of the other dorms.

"Idia, I thought you said this was a simple calibration of the gate's resonance!" Riddle barked, his voice climbing an octave as the green flames of the Mirror of Darkness began to turn a blinding, pearlescent silver.

"I did! I mean, it was!" Idia Shroud shrieked, his blue hair flickering into a frantic shade of magenta. He was frantically typing on a hovering holographic keyboard. "But someone—and I’m looking at you, Magicam-normie—decided to upload a high-res ‘behind the scenes’ video using the lab’s dedicated fiber-optic mana-line!"

Cater Diamond laughed nervously, holding his phone behind his back. "Hey, the lighting was literal fire, Idia! I couldn't let it go to waste. #ScienceIsChic, right?"

"You fool!" Leona Kingscholar growled, his ears pinned back against his head. "The floor is vibrating. I don't like things that vibrate unless I'm the one causing it. Ruggie, get back."

"Way ahead of you, boss!" Ruggie chirped, already halfway to the exit.

But it was too late. A surge of white light exploded from the mirror, a vacuum of magical pressure that didn't pull them in so much as it erased the room around them. For a moment, there was only the sound of Malleus Draconia’s calm, curious hum—"How fascinating"—before the world turned inside out.

At Celestial Gate Academy, the Student Council meeting was already off to a disastrous start. Rosie Rosehearts sat at the head of the long mahogany table, her gavel poised like a weapon. To her right, Viviana Schoenheit was buffing her nails with a diamond-encrusted file, and to her left, Mallory Draconia was staring blankly at a gargoyle perched on the window ledge.

"Item number one," Rosie announced, her voice echoing with a sharp authority that made the younger students flinch. "The unauthorized use of 'Genie-Mist' in the Viperella dorms. Kalie, Jaira, stand up."

Kalie Al-Asim stood with a sheepish grin, her gold bangles clinking. Jaira Viper stood beside her, looking like she wanted to evaporate into the floorboards. Both of them had swollen lips—a lingering reminder of the 'collision' earlier that afternoon.

"It was a culinary experiment!" Kalie chirped. "I call it... Spicy Teleportation Curry!"

"It’s called a fire hazard," Jaira hissed, refusing to look at Kalie.

Before Rosie could deliver a lecture on the safety codes of the Shaftlands, the massive stained-glass window behind her shattered. Not inward, but outward, as if the sky itself had suffered a puncture. A vortex of silver and black energy swirled into the center of the council chamber, and with a series of heavy thuds, fifteen teenage boys and one very confused fire-cat slammed into the expensive carpet.

Silence fell over the room. It was a silence so heavy it felt tangible.

Riddle Rosehearts was the first to scramble to his feet, adjusting his crown with a trembling hand. "Off with your—! Where in the Queen’s name are we?!"

He froze. His eyes traveled up, following the line of a pair of polished black boots, up a red-and-white skirt, to a face that looked like a mirror image of his own—if he were a girl with slightly longer hair and a much more terrifying scowl.

Rosie Rosehearts stared down at the boy. She looked at his red cape, his familiar dorm uniform, and the way his eyes twitched when he was angry. She felt a cold shiver go down her spine. "Who are you, and why do you have my father’s face?"

Ace Trappola, who had landed face-first near the feet of a girl wearing a basketball jersey, looked up and choked. The girl, Acelynn, had the same messy orange hair and the same mischievous glint in her eye. She was currently holding a basketball under one arm and staring at him like he was a bug.

"Whoa," Ace breathed. "Is this a dream? Because if it is, why am I the short one?"

"Short?" Acelynn barked a laugh, spinning the ball on her finger. "Listen here, Ginger-Snap. I don't know what kind of cosplay convention you escaped from, but you're trespassing on Rebel Serpentina territory."

Across the room, Idia Shroud was trying to hide behind a chair, but he was spotted instantly. A girl with flickering blue hair and a tablet in her hand—Idabelle—gasped so loudly it sounded like a system error. Beside her, a taller girl with a crown of woven pomegranate vines, Peony, dropped her watering can.

"Director?" Idabelle whispered, her eyes wide. "Wait... no. You’re too... low-res. Are you an NPC?"

Idia’s hair turned a brilliant, terrified white. "A-A girl? Multiple girls? In high-definition? Ortho, save me! The 3D world is attacking!"

"I am right here, Brother," Ortho said, though he was busy scanning the room. "Fascinating. Their magical signatures are nearly identical to ours, yet distorted by a generational shift. Probability of this being a parallel future: 94.2%."

The tension in the room snapped when Malleus Draconia stepped forward, his green eyes glowing in the dim light of the chamber. He looked at Mallory, who had risen from her seat. At 6'5", she was the only person in the room who could look him almost directly in the eye.

"A dragon fae," Malleus murmured, his voice filled with a rare, genuine wonder. "And you carry the crest of the Briar Valley."

Mallory’s expression, usually a wall of stoic indifference, crumbled into a look of pure shock. "Father?"

The word hit the room like a thunderclap.

"Father?!" the NRC boys yelled in unison.

"Absolutely not!" Leona shouted, pointing at Lexi Kingscholar, who was currently leaning against a wall with her arms crossed, looking bored. "I don't have kids. I don't even like people! Why does that one look like she’s about to tell me my fly is unzipped?"

Lexi smirked, showing a hint of a fang. "Actually, I was going to say your posture is trash, 'King'. You look like a rug that’s been stepped on too many times."

Leona’s tail lashed. "That’s it. I’m hitting a girl. I don't care about the optics."

"You’ll do no such thing in my presence!" Rosie shouted, slamming her gavel onto the table. The sound was like a gunshot, and the NRC boys instinctively stood at attention—a habit beaten into them by Riddle.

Rosie turned her gaze to Riddle, who was still staring at her in a daze. "You. Small, angry, and red. You claim to be Riddle Rosehearts?"

"I don't 'claim' it, I am he!" Riddle snapped, regaining his footing. "I am the Housewarden of Heartslabyul, and I demand to know why you are wearing a perversion of my dorm’s uniform!"

"Perversion?" Rosie stepped closer, her height advantage making Riddle look even smaller. "This is the uniform of Rebel Serpentina, the most prestigious dorm at Celestial Gate Academy. And if you are indeed Riddle Rosehearts, then you are about twenty years too young and far too loud. My father is a man of few words and many rules—most of which I have perfected."

Trey Clover stepped between them, his hands raised in a peace-making gesture. "Now, now. Let’s all lower our voices. I’m Trey Clover, and—"

"Traci! He has your glasses!" a voice squealed.

Traci Clover, a girl with a green beret and a flour-dusted apron, ran over to Trey. She squinted at him, then at the tray of tarts he was still miraculously holding. "Wait... is that a strawberry tart with a double-glaze finish? The lamination on that pastry is... it’s beautiful."

Trey blinked, a warm smile spreading across his face. "You recognize the technique? I used a chilled butter fold."

"Oh my god," Traci whispered, her eyes tearing up. "You’re a genius. Teach me everything."

As the "baking duo" began to discuss the merits of puff pastry, the rest of the room remained a powder keg.

Azul Ashengrotto was currently being cornered by three girls: Azure, Jana, and Flayr. Azure was holding a ledger that looked suspiciously like his own, while the Leech twins were circling him with predatory grins.

"A contract for 'Oxygen Tax'?" Azul read from Azure’s notebook, his voice trembling with a mix of horror and admiration. "You charge by the liter during exam week? That’s... that’s diabolical. The profit margins must be astronomical."

"Oh, they are," Azure purred, adjusting her glasses. "But the overhead on the lounge is killing me. Perhaps we could discuss a cross-temporal merger? I have a feeling your 'Mostro Lounge' has some assets I could liquidate."

"I... I think I’m in love," Azul whispered, or perhaps he was having a heart attack. It was hard to tell.

Meanwhile, Jamil Viper was staring at Jaira. He didn't say anything at first. he just watched the way she stood—shoulders back, hand on her hip, a scimitar strapped to her waist. She looked free. She looked like she didn't have to spend every waking moment worrying about an Al-Asim.

Then he looked at Kalie, who was currently trying to explain to Kalim how she had accidentally turned the fountain into lemonade.

"You," Jamil said, walking over to Jaira. "Do you... do you serve her?"

Jaira looked at him, her eyes narrowing. She saw the exhaustion in his face, the weight of the silver thread that bound him to Kalim. She felt a pang of something she hadn't felt in years: pity.

"No," Jaira said firmly. "She’s my best friend. And occasionally my greatest headache. But I don't serve anyone. I’m the Vice Housewarden of Viperella. I lead."

Jamil felt a lump in his throat. He looked away, his voice thick. "I see. That’s... good."

The peace was short-lived. The doors to the council chamber swung open, and a woman with an air of absolute authority and a dress that seemed to be made of starlight stepped in.

"What is this cacophony?" Headmistress Bluebella demanded, her eyes sweeping over the group of boys. She paused, her gaze lingering on the NRC faculty-style cloaks some of them wore. "Well. It seems the mirror has finally decided to play a prank on us. Or perhaps the 'Great Seven' have a very strange sense of humor."

"Headmistress!" Rosie said, bowing her head slightly. "These... people... fell out of a hole in the sky. They claim to be our parents. Or, rather, younger versions of them."

Bluebella hummed, walking around the frozen NRC boys. She stopped in front of Vil Schoenheit, who was currently staring at Viviana with a look of intense critical appraisal.

"Your contour is slightly off, darling," Vil was saying to his 'daughter'. "But the bone structure is divine. We must work on your walk. You’re slouching by at least two centimeters."

"Two centimeters?" Viviana gasped, horrified. "Rosie, why didn't you tell me?! I’m a monster!"

"You’re beautiful, Vivi," Rosie sighed, rubbing her temples.

Bluebella laughed, a sound like silver bells. "It seems we have a situation. The magic of the Shaftlands is temperamental, and a rift of this magnitude will take time to repair. Until then, it seems Celestial Gate Academy will have to host some... unexpected guests."

"Host them?" Riddle shrieked. "We have classes! We have a tournament! I have a schedule that must be followed to the second!"

Rosie turned to him, a wicked smirk playing on her lips. It was the same smirk Riddle used when he was about to declare a 'Rule of the Queen of Hearts'.

"Well, 'Father'," Rosie said, her voice dripping with irony. "Since you’re so fond of rules, you’ll be pleased to know that Celestial Gate has three hundred and eighty-four of them. And as the Student Council President, I’ll be personally overseeing your orientation."

She leaned in, her face inches from his. "Rule number one: No shouting in the council chamber. That’s a ten-point deduction for Rebel Serpentina. And since you aren't officially a student... I think a few hours of pulling weeds in the rose garden should suffice."

Riddle’s face went from pink to crimson to a deep, bruised purple. "WEEDS?! I AM THE HOUSEWARDEN! I AM THE—"

"You’re a guest," Rosie interrupted, her voice cold as ice. "And in this school, I am the Queen. Guards!"

Acelynn, Dena, and Catherina stepped forward, grinning as they cracked their knuckles.

"With pleasure, Boss," Acelynn said, grabbing Ace by the collar of his blazer. "Come on, Mini-Me. Let’s go find you a shovel."

"Hey! Get your hands off the brand!" Ace yelled, though he was being dragged away with surprising ease.

As the NRC boys were led out—some willingly, like Trey and Azul, others kicking and screaming like Riddle and Sebek—Malleus remained behind for a moment, looking at Mallory.

"You have your mother’s eyes," he said softly.

Mallory looked down, her purple hair obscuring her face. "She died when I was young. Lilia said she was a great queen."

Malleus reached out, his hand hovering over her shoulder before he gently patted it. "She was. And it seems she raised a formidable daughter. I look forward to seeing what kind of magic you possess, Mallory Draconia."

Mallory watched him leave, her heart hammering against her ribs. For years, she had lived in the shadow of a legend, a father who was a god among fae. To see him now, so young and so... humanly curious... it changed everything.

Viviana walked up beside Rosie, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Well, that was dramatic. Do you think we should tell them about the mandatory ballroom dancing class tomorrow?"

Rosie looked at the spot where Riddle had been standing, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "No. Let it be a surprise. I want to see if he can actually lead, or if he’s all talk."

She looked out the window at the setting sun over the Shaftlands. The world had just gotten a lot more complicated, but for the first time in her life, Rosie Rosehearts felt like she was the one holding all the cards.

"Welcome to the future, boys," she whispered. "Try to keep up."