Frida, Karl, and Rosa
Later, as the group settled in, the flickering screen came to life once again. This time, instead of the usual suspects, they were greeted by the fiery spirit of Frida Kahlo, her bold brows and unflinching gaze staring out from the screen.
“I see we have a party,” Frida said, her voice sharp and confident. “But no matter how many of you are here, the same questions remain: What are you doing to change the world around you? Art, politics, identity—it’s all part of the same struggle.”
Einstein, who had appeared once more, nodded. “She is right. It is not enough to exist; we must challenge what is, or risk becoming complacent in the face of injustice.”
Frida's lips curled into a wry smile. “You know, Mr. Einstein, I’d take your wisdom more seriously if you’d dare challenge the status quo in your own time. But no, you stayed comfortable. You played by the rules.”
Einstein winced. “And perhaps that is my greatest regret.” He turned to the camera. “But even now, from the future, I see the fractures. The social divide. The unspeakable horrors that come from ignoring the truth.”
Before the conversation could deepen, Karl Marx, ever the firebrand, burst into view on the screen, shaking his head.
“Ah, yes. The intellectuals, the artists. They point out the issues but fail to address the root cause. Capitalism. It feeds on the poor, exploits the working class, and this—” he gestured to the chaos around them— “is its inevitable outcome. You cannot fix a broken system by merely putting bandages on the wounds. Revolution is the only cure.”
Rosa Parks, who had been silently observing, finally spoke up, her voice calm but powerful. “Revolution doesn’t always have to be violent. Sometimes it starts with the quiet act of resistance. The refusal to accept what’s handed to you, to stand when they tell you to sit down. We all have our part in the fight.”
Frida nodded. “We are all part of the same struggle. Whether through art, politics, or everyday acts of rebellion—resisting the systems that oppress us is the only way to bring about change.”
The screen flickered, and just like that, the time travelers were gone, leaving the group in silence.
Jas exhaled deeply. “Maybe we don’t need to save the world all at once. Maybe we just need to take it one small act at a time.”
Roman raised an eyebrow. “You really think that’ll work?”
“Maybe,” Jas replied, “but it's a start.”