Alex Carter ran.
His breaths came fast, his heart pounding like a war drum. He didn't know where he was going—all he knew was that something inside him had just changed forever.
The alley was empty now, the gang long gone, but his mind kept replaying the scene over and over. The way time had… stopped. The way his body had moved without thinking.
He reached his apartment building, fumbling with his keys. His hands were shaking.
Did I imagine it?
The lock clicked open, and he slipped inside, shutting the door behind him. His small apartment was quiet. His mom was working late again, as usual.
Alex collapsed onto the couch, staring at his hands.
A memory flashed—Scarface lunging at him. The world freezing. The sensation of time bending around him.
He clenched his fists. No. That was real.
Something had awakened inside him. And it terrified him.
The Next Day
Alex barely slept.
He spent the whole night testing his power—if it was a power. He'd flick his fingers, willing time to stop. Sometimes, it worked. Other times, nothing happened.
By morning, he still had no answers.
At school, he sat at his desk, barely hearing the teacher's lecture.
"Mr. Carter?"
Alex blinked. The whole class was staring at him.
The teacher frowned. "If you're done daydreaming, maybe you can answer the question?"
Alex had no idea what she'd asked. "Uh… 42?"
A few students chuckled. The teacher sighed and moved on.
Alex rubbed his temples. Focus, Carter. You can't let this consume you.
But then, something happened that made him forget about school entirely.
After School
Alex walked home, still lost in thought.
Then he felt it.
A presence. A feeling. Like he was being watched.
He stopped and glanced around. The sidewalk was busy, people going about their day. But something was off.
A man stood by a streetlamp, dressed in dark clothes. He wasn't moving. Just staring.
Alex swallowed. Is he following me?
He quickened his pace.
So did the man.
Alex turned a corner. The man followed.
His pulse quickened.
He broke into a run.
The moment he turned into an alley, he regretted it.
A second figure stepped into his path.
This one was different. Bigger. Dressed in all black, with a hood pulled low over his face. But what caught Alex's attention was his hand.
A flickering flame burned in his palm.
Oh, crap.
The first man entered the alley behind him, cutting off his escape.
Alex's gut twisted. He was trapped.
The hooded man stepped forward. The fire in his hand flared brighter. "You're Carter, aren't you?"
Alex didn't answer. His instincts screamed at him to run—but there was nowhere to go.
The man smirked. "You pissed off the wrong people, kid."
Alex barely had time to react before the fireball came flying at him.
His body moved on instinct.
Time slowed.
The fireball crawled toward him, its flames twisting in slow motion.
Alex dove to the side. Time snapped back, and the fireball exploded against the brick wall, sending sparks flying.
The hooded man's smirk vanished. "Well, well. Looks like the rumors were true."
Alex's breath hitched. "Who… are you?"
The man flexed his fingers, the fire swirling in his palm. "Name's Pyre." He grinned. "And you? You're dead."
He lunged.
Alex barely dodged another fireball. His mind raced. I have to get out of here.
He turned and ran toward the first man blocking the alley entrance.
Pyre thrust his hand forward—a wall of fire erupted, cutting off the exit.
Alex skidded to a stop, eyes wide.
The first man chuckled. "You're not going anywhere, kid."
Pyre walked toward him, flames dancing around his fists. "We're just getting started."
Alex's pulse roared in his ears. His body buzzed with energy, his instincts screaming.
I don't know how to fight…
But he was about to learn.