Why was he of all people a time cop now? That was what Samuel Grain wondered as he sat in a crater where he used to work as a security guard.  As he idly stared at a chunk of concrete below a facility that according to reality, never got built in the first place, he pondered how the hell he got to this point. Let's just say Samuel Grain had a hell of a day. A time-tear had ripped open above his workplace, people were getting erased from existence left and right and people didn’t even notice! Time itself was looping in a rapidly shrinking cycle, and he was caught at ground zero. Then, somehow, he was the only one who seemed to notice that any of this was happening! Now he was some sort of time cop called a 'Time Enforcer,' a title that felt both utterly absurd and absolutely terrifying in its implications. He had a massive, disembodied face spouting cryptic instructions about 'Mirage,' 'temporal anomalies,' and 'point rewards.' What the hell were these points? If magic existed all along what did that mean for him? Why were all these idiots calling it 'Mirage'? WHY, ESPECIALLY do people keep throwing grenades into illegally created time-portals at roman emperors who he was absolutely freaking sure were never emperors in history at all?! He knew it was just beginning, by why would it even start in the first place and when would it END?! Here's what you can expect! Explosions! Lots of explosion! Some are even time explosions! And maybe a few reality explosions for good measure! A security guard who is our protagonist, but he really just wants to clock out and grab a beer, but instead gets stuck fixing the space-time continuum. It's not in his job description, and he's not happy about it. Time travel: it's not just a bad idea, it's a really bad idea. Especially when it involves rogue scientists, unstable portals, and a healthy dose of "oops, we broke reality with this magic stick that looked darn cool!" Magic, but they call it 'Mirage' now, because apparently, even sorcerers need good PR, especially when its a secret to everyone! Time tearing itself apart, then deciding to just… not. Because why make sense when you can just be weird? If you thought Grand Order was a mess and Lost Belt timelines weren't insanely vestigial enough, come into my parlor and ride the time capsule straight into hell! It's a party, and nobody is invited! The door password is 42, so let's crash it anyway!