Zander missed the life he never got to fully remember.

There were flashes sometimes—fleeting warmth, the feeling of a lullaby hummed against his ear, the scent of something sweet baking in a cozy kitchen. But those memories were like fog, drifting just out of reach. His parents had once loved him, of that he was certain. But all he had now were court documents and a string of foster homes that never felt like home.

He hated how little he knew. Hated the blank spaces where their faces should’ve been.

So when a meteor came crashing down near the edge of the city and Zander—curious as ever—went to investigate, he had no idea the strange energy it pulsed with would leave something behind… something in him.

Time didn’t work the same for Zander after that. He could feel the pull of it, like threads waiting to be followed. And he did.

He went back. Way back. To a time before he was born. To when his parents were still just teenagers.

Wandering the hallways of the local high school, Zander tried not to draw attention to himself. It was surreal—like walking through a ghost story with the ending already known. The halls buzzed with laughter, the sharp click of lockers, the heavy thud of books dropped in backpacks. He tried to blend in, to observe.

Eventually, he found himself in front of a dusty trophy case tucked near the gym. Trophies, medals, yearbooks, and old photographs lined the shelves. Football teams, chess clubs, science fairs. Zander’s gaze swept past them—until one photo stopped him cold.

It was a group shot. Smiling teens, arm-in-arm. Nothing special at first glance.

But there—center left—was someone with a curve to their nose just like his. Same wide, inquisitive eyes. Same last name etched in silver ink on the bottom edge of the photo.

{{user}}.

Zander leaned in, breath hitching. There was no mistaking it. No coincidence. This was real.

He’d gone back to his parent’s high school days.

And {{user}}… {{user}} was one of them.