Chapter Text
Part One
10-year-old Finn Whizz was about to have the best day of his life.
Of course, waking up that morning, it did not exactly feel that way.
Finn considered himself blessed to live in a world where superheroes and Muppets, like himself, coexisted — although he sometimes lamented the passing of his parents. It happened during those five years that he was blipped out along with half of the universe by the alien tyrant, Thanos. His only solace from his less-than-comfortable living situation with his verbally abusive uncle — his only living relative — was in the comic books that he read.
On his Friday after school, Finn rushed to Dinky’s Comics. He attempted to buy the new issue of Captain America, based on the actual WW2 adventures of the real-life war hero-turned-Avenger-turned-fugitive-turned-Avenger-again, Steve Rogers.
That was until Mr. Dinky gave him the bad news: “Sorry, Finn. All sold out.”
“What?!” Finn cried out in defeat. “No way!”
“Yes way, Whizzer!” Every time Finn heard that dreadful nickname, he cringed. There was only one kid in his school who pestered him daily with that nickname — Horace, the school bully.
He dangled the Captain America teasingly over Finn’s head, as if Finn were a fish in a pond that was looking for worm bait. Being a human boy, Horace had the genetic advantage of being a whole foot taller than Finn. He could try to jump up and get the comic, but Horace would just yank it further out of his reach.
“Ya snooze, ya lose, Whizzer!” Horace snickered on his way out.
Mr. Dinky felt guilty. “I’m so sorry, kiddo. I tried to hold a copy for ya, but they were sellin’ like hotcakes from the second I stocked ‘em up on the shelves.”
Finn knew it wasn’t Mr. Dinky’s fault. He had been running the shop long before Finn’s father was even born. Finn used to go there with his father before his father passed away. The first comic that he bought was the one he always kept in his backpack. Now it was the only comic he could read that afternoon in Central Park.
It wasn’t that Finn didn’t like reading his first-ever comic.
In fact, reading it made him feel as though he was sitting right beside his dad on the very bench where they would hang out every Friday afternoon. It would always be the perfect start of the weekend for Finn — reading a comic in Central Park every Friday, going to the arcade every Saturday, and having ice cream every Sunday. All of that disappeared when his father passed.
His light, foamy body jolted a little when someone slightly heavier sat there beside him on the bench. Looking up from his comic, he was surprised by the beautiful human woman sitting next to him. The wind instantly swept her perfume his way — she carried the irresistible scent of honey and cherries. She had light caramel skin and long, elegant black hair. She wore a black long-sleeved shirt with a V-neck collar, a pair of black jeans, and a long red scarf.
“Afternoon,” she said to Finn with an angelic voice.
“Afternoon,” Finn returned.
She must’ve sensed some sort of discomfort in him, as her demeanor suddenly became apologetic. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should’ve asked you first if anyone was sitting here before I so rudely planted my butt down.”
“No, ma’am, you’re cool,” Finn told her. “No one’s sitting there…not anymore.” He muttered that last part under his breath.
“Not anymore?” The lady must’ve had excellent hearing.
“My dad used to sit there with me, every time we came to the park to read our comics.” He solemnly looked down at his first-ever comic in his small hands. “He’s gone now.”
“Oh, sweetie,” the lady sympathized. “I am so sorry. I’ll find someplace else to sit and read right away.”
Finn appreciated her kindness. “It’s O.K. If he were here right now, he’d tell you to stay. So…stay.”
“You sure?”
Finn nodded approvingly.
The woman kept herself where she was, opening her book. Finn had gotten a glimpse at it as she sat down — it was one of those hardcover books. This one was solid black on the front, back, and spine. No pictures, just the title and the author’s name in gold lettering on the spine. “The Impossible Diary by Clementine Walker,” he read it aloud. “Sounds like a cool book.”
“Oh, it is,” the lady said in excitement. “It was written in the 19th century. It’s about two alien travelers and their adventures through time, space, and reality.” Noting Finn’s growing interest, she invited, “Wanna take a look?”
She handed the book over to him.
Finn had figured it to be a book without pictures, but this one had a plethora of eye-catching images, all of which looked to have been illustrated by hand. He didn’t normally read novels — just the ‘graphic’ variety. But this specific novel was something he would love to dedicate his free time to.
He was prepared to return it to its owner before she suddenly said, “It’s yours, if you want it.”
Finn was taken aback by the extremely generous offer. “Really?!”
“Yeah, I’ve got loads of copies,” the woman smirked.
“T-Thanks, miss!” Finn stammered in gratitude.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” She started to get up from the bench but stopped long enough to tell Finn, “Oh, by the way…you might wanna start from page fifteen. That’s where the story really gets interesting.”
Following her suggestion, Finn opened to the page.
His eyes beamed when he found — tucked neatly between the pages — the latest issue of Captain America that he thought he lucked out on getting earlier at Dinky’s Comics. “WHOA!” Finn cheered.
The lady giggled at his reaction. “I figured you’d be engaged.”
Finn felt like it was his birthday, receiving a gift within another gift. “I don’t get it, miss. I-I mean, I’m thankful…but…why me? I’m just a kid you met in the park for the first time. No way you could’ve known that I wanted this comic on the very day it came out.”
The woman playfully shrugged. “Let’s just say that I have a good feeling about you.” She then removed herself from the bench and started walking away. “Have a great rest of your afternoon,” she bid him with a gentle wave.
Finn was speechless — even more so after he returned home a little later.
That evening, he read some of The Impossible Diary, starting exactly from page fifteen, as the lady recommended. The story was like nothing Finn had ever read before. Every chapter chronicled different journeys in the lives of its two lead characters — Neas and Aznavorian — two beings of an alien race known as ‘Time Lords,’ traveling in time-ships referred to as a ‘TARDIS’ (short for ‘Time And Relative Dimension In Space’). Finn was particularly captivated by the artwork of one incarnation of Aznavorian named Rania, who was as brave as she was beautiful.
He would’ve enjoyed the book more if his uncle hadn’t been so loud while watching the baseball game in the living room. Thankfully, Finn had earmuffs to drown out the noise.
The following Saturday morning, he was awakened by a different noise.
Initially, he thought that his uncle was attempting to make breakfast again; the last time that happened, the entire apartment complex lost power for an entire week! Luckily for Finn and the rest of the building’s tenants, his uncle was still asleep in bed.
And yet, the unbearable racket persisted.
From what Finn could gather, it was coming from the roof.
He rushed up there to investigate and received quite the surprise to see Dr. Bunsen Honeydew and his assistant, Beaker. It wasn’t too often Finn saw two Muppet legends there on the roof of his apartment. But, sure enough, there they were — dressed in some bizarre blue-and-white uniforms with the number ‘4’ on their chests.
“Greetings, young man,” Bunsen waved to Finn. “We are visitors from the dimension designated as ‘Earth-828-M’. What is your Earth designation?”
“Erm, I’m not entirely sure,” Finn frowned. Why was Bunsen talking like he was from another planet?
“It’s ‘Earth-M,’ Bunsen,” said a familiar voice, speaking from behind the two Muppet scientists.
Finn’s eyes widened as he peered beyond them, his breath catching in a gasp of astonishment.
A woman gracefully emerged from the sleek, white orb-shaped craft — a craft strikingly similar to the one in the tales from The Impossible Diary. As she stepped out, her silhouette was framed by the soft glow emanating from the craft, casting a subtle light on her figure. Finn’s heart raced as he recognized her; it was the same woman he had encountered in Central Park yesterday. She was dressed the same, with the unmistakable aroma of honey and cherry wafting around her. “It’s you!” Finn exclaimed, his voice a mixture of disbelief and excitement, as he took a step closer.
“Yep, it’s me,” the woman smiled warmly. “My name’s Zeeva…an incarnation of Aznavorian.” Seeing Finn’s eyes enlarge with realization, she added, “Yes, sweetie…that Aznavorian.”