Ezra's fingers twitched as he sat on the edge of the old classroom desk, trying to absorb everything he had just heard. Powers. Others like him. A secret world beneath the surface of his boring school life. It felt like fiction, and yet his instincts told him it was all very real.
Jace leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. "Before we go any further, we need to know what you can do."
"I… I don't know," Ezra admitted, his voice dry. "Something happened in the gym yesterday. Time… slowed down. Or maybe I moved faster. It's hard to explain."
"That's how it starts," Aria said, stepping forward. "Instinct. Adrenaline. Stress. Powers usually awaken in moments like that. But if you can slow time, even just around yourself… that's rare."
"Rare good or rare dangerous?" Ezra asked, forcing a nervous smile.
"Both," Jace replied flatly. "It means you're useful. And a target."
Ezra blinked. "A target? For who?"
"We'll get to that," Aria said quickly, shooting Jace a look. "Right now, we need to test your control. Can you trigger it again?"
"I don't know. It just… happened." Ezra stood, hands at his sides. "How am I supposed to do it on command?"
"You're not," Jace said. "But we can try to trigger it the same way it first awakened—pressure."
Ezra didn't like the sound of that.
Before he could respond, Jace moved. Fast.
A blur of motion, a black sleeve, and Ezra instinctively flinched back as a fist came toward his face.
No—!
In an instant, everything around him shifted. The air grew thick, heavy. Dust motes hung still in the golden beams of light. Jace's punch slowed to a crawl, his expression frozen mid-sneer. Aria's hair floated unnaturally in the air, like she was underwater.
Ezra's breath caught. It's happening again.
The world wasn't frozen, exactly—it dragged. Like every second had been stretched thin.
He stepped aside, moving carefully. His legs felt heavy, as though wading through syrup, but he moved faster than anything else around him. The punch missed him by inches.
And then—snap.
Reality resumed.
Jace's fist hit empty air. He recovered smoothly, clearly expecting it.
Ezra stumbled back, wide-eyed and breathing hard. "What the hell was that?"
"You did it," Aria said, smiling. "You slipped time."
Ezra looked at his hands like they didn't belong to him. "That was… insane."
"You moved faster than everything around you," Jace said. "Or slowed everything else down. Same result. You've got time manipulation, even if it's partial."
Ezra sat back down, adrenaline fading, leaving only exhaustion. His body felt drained, like he'd just run ten miles without stopping.
"It… it took everything out of me."
"That's normal," Aria said. "Using your power eats stamina, especially early on. But your instincts kicked in. That's promising."
Jace gave a grunt. "He's got potential. But instinct won't be enough. You need to train. Learn control."
"Train how?" Ezra asked.
Jace walked over to a corner of the room and dragged out an old, dented locker. It scraped across the floor with a screech. "Simple reflex tests. You'll push yourself until you can trigger that state at will."
Ezra eyed the locker suspiciously. "Let me guess. You're going to try to hit me with that thing?"
"Not the whole thing," Jace said with a smirk. "Just what's inside."
He opened the locker. Inside were sandbags, tennis balls, and what looked like wooden practice swords.
Ezra stared. "This looks like gym class from hell."
"Welcome to the real curriculum," Aria said.
The next hour passed in a blur of chaos.
Jace hurled tennis balls at him at random intervals, sometimes with no warning. Ezra dodged—badly—until his reflexes kicked in. He slipped time once more, then collapsed after a minute of movement in that slowed state.
"You're improving," Aria said, offering him a bottle of water.
Ezra panted on the floor, drenched in sweat. "You call this improvement?"
"You lasted longer than your first time," Jace said. "That's how it starts. Eventually, you'll be able to stretch that window longer. Use it strategically."
Ezra chuckled between breaths. "Great. Just need to nearly die every time to get better."
"Welcome to the club," Aria muttered.
Despite the pain, despite the exhaustion, something deep inside Ezra stirred. A flicker of pride. He wasn't just a nobody anymore. He was different—and for once, that might actually be a good thing.