New Year's Dive

Wymane Wyot lounged in his cluttered quarters, munching on stale chips. The Time Keeper Council had been riding him about “focus” and “professionalism,” so naturally, he decided to blow off some steam. With a mischievous grin, he dialed his watch. “Scheveningen, Netherlands, 2019. New Year’s Dive. Time for some fun.”

Seconds later, Wymane appeared on the freezing beach, surrounded by festive chaos. He shivered. "Why didn’t anyone tell me time travel doesn’t come with thermal socks?"

The countdown began, and he dove into the icy North Sea with the crowd. But instead of emerging triumphant, he surfaced in 1983. Bewildered swimmers pointed at his futuristic wetsuit.

“Relax, folks. Just... uh... testing new swimwear,” he quipped, backing away.

His watch sputtered. One malfunction later, Wymane ricocheted through decades of New Year’s Dives, crashing into crowds, dodging flying champagne corks, and once narrowly avoiding being tackled by a lifeguard in the 1960s.

By the time he reset the watch, Wymane stumbled back into 2019, soaked and exhausted. He plopped onto the sand, water dripping from his hair.

"That," he muttered to himself, "was either the best idea I’ve ever had… or the dumbest. Probably both."

Grinning to no one in particular, he picked up a discarded orange beanie and jammed it on his head. "New tradition: Wymane’s New Year’s Splash. Has a nice ring to it."

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