Time snapped back into motion like a rubber band pulled too far.
The rain struck him all at once, a thousand tiny needles pelting his skin. The car veered, just missing him by a breath, its tires shrieking as it sped past and disappeared around the corner. Ash stumbled back, heart hammering like a drum in his chest, the grocery bag torn and spilling cans onto the wet pavement.
He stood there for a moment, soaked and shaking, watching the raindrops hit the ground in fast-forward—until he blinked. And they were slow again. Then fast. Then gone.
It wasn't a dream. The voice. The power. The stillness. It had all happened.
Ash dropped to his knees, hands trembling as he gathered the cans from the ground. His breath fogged the air, shallow and quick. He wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.
He'd always felt invisible. Now he *was*.
That night, Ash didn't eat dinner. He didn't talk to his parents. He locked himself in his room and stared at the ceiling until the lines blurred and twisted. His fingers itched with something wild. Power. He could feel it under his skin like static, humming, waiting to be used again.
He didn't sleep.
Not really.
---
The next morning, he stood in the hallway at school, invisible.
Not metaphorically.
Literally.
He'd stopped time.
Everything was still. A hallway mid-chaos—students caught in mid-yell, a dropped pencil frozen inches above the ground. Ash walked between them like a ghost, watching the world in pause. He leaned in close to the girl who always whispered about him during class. Her mouth was frozen mid-sentence. Her expression: smug. Cruel.
He studied her face the way one might study a painting they hated.
"Do you think this is funny?" he said, his voice echoing faintly in the silence. She didn't respond. She couldn't.
And then, just as easily as he had paused it, he released time.
The pencil hit the floor with a clack. The hallway resumed its noise. No one noticed the missing second. No one saw him fade in and out of time like a flicker of light.
He slipped back into the crowd, his expression unreadable.
---
Ash spent the rest of the week experimenting in secret. A second here. Five seconds there. He could slow time, speed it up, even stop it completely. But only for short bursts. The longer he held it, the more his chest burned, like the power was a wildfire he hadn't yet learned to contain.
He began to see things differently.
The kid who threw paper balls at him? Ash saw the way his hands shook when he thought no one was looking.
The teacher who ignored him? She spent her lunch breaks crying in her car.
He learned that the world didn't just hurt *him*. It hurt everyone. Some people were just better at hiding it.
But knowing that didn't make the rage go away.
It only buried it deeper.
---
Friday afternoon, Ash sat alone at the edge of the school courtyard, the sky turning orange behind the buildings. He hadn't spoken to anyone all day. Not that he needed to. The world moved around him like it always had—without him.
And then he saw him. Jason.
The one who pushed him into lockers. Who stole his notebooks. Who once spat in his water bottle and laughed.
Ash's hands clenched.
He froze time.
The courtyard went still.
Ash stood up, heart pounding in his ears. He walked over to Jason, who sat on the grass with his head tilted back, laughing with two friends, both mid-laugh. Ash studied his face. Perfect. Smug. Undeserved.
"You don't get to smile," he muttered.
He raised a hand—and stopped.
The moment stretched. His power pulsed beneath his skin. He could do anything. Humiliate him. Terrify him. Make him beg. It would be easy.
But something held him there.
Not fear. Not weakness.
Uncertainty.
He let out a long breath.
"I'm not ready," he whispered. "Not yet."
He stepped back. Released time.
Jason blinked, confused, as if he'd forgotten what he was laughing at. Ash was already gone, slipping between the seconds once more.
---
That night, Ash stood on the rooftop of his apartment building, the city lights below like stars scattered across the earth.
He looked out over the world that had ignored him, betrayed him, broken him.
"I'll become something they can't ignore," he said softly.
Not tonight.
Not tomorrow.
But soon.
And when that day comes, the world will remember his name.
Ash.