Chapter 2: Hunted

Michael's lungs burned as he sprinted down the dimly lit alley, his footsteps splashing through puddles. The rain blurred his vision, but he didn't dare slow down. He didn't know who those men were or what they wanted, but every instinct in his body screamed that stopping meant death.

Behind him, tires screeched as the black sedan whipped around the corner. Headlights cut through the darkness, locking onto him like a predator tracking prey.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Michael cursed, darting between dumpsters and broken crates. He could hear the agents' voices through their earpieces, crisp and precise.

"Target is fast. Untrained but adaptive."

"Cut him off ahead."

Michael's mind raced. Think! They're faster than normal, they have tech, they probably know this city better than I do. He needed to disappear.

His eyes darted to a fire escape just ahead. With one desperate leap, he grabbed the rusted metal ladder and hauled himself up. His arms strained, his fingers slick with rain, but he climbed like his life depended on it—because it did.

Gunfire erupted below. Sparks flew as bullets ricocheted off metal.

"They're actually shooting at me?!" Michael gasped, his heart slamming against his ribs.

One of the agents moved like a blur, scaling the wall with inhuman speed. Michael's breath hitched. That's not normal. Not even close.

He scrambled over the rooftop ledge, boots hitting wet gravel. No time to stop. He sprinted across the rooftop, leaping over ventilation units and broken antennas.

Then his body reacted before his brain.

The world slowed again. The raindrops hung midair, the neon signs in the distance flickered in a frozen loop. Michael's foot landed on empty air—but he didn't fall.

Instead, he hovered for a split second, then surged forward, landing on the next rooftop as if space itself had bent to his will.

His stomach twisted. That felt wrong. Like he had just rewritten reality for a brief moment.

But no time to question it.

Behind him, the agent reached the rooftop. The man's gray eyes locked onto Michael like a machine analyzing its target.

"Surrender. You don't know what you're dealing with."

Michael backed up, chest heaving. "Oh yeah? And you do?"

The agent didn't answer. He simply vanished—no flash, no sound. One second he was there, the next he was right in front of Michael, fist flying.

Michael's body reacted again. Time fractured. The punch slowed, then rewound slightly before playing out again. It gave him just enough time to tilt his head, barely dodging it. The agent's knuckles grazed his jaw.

Michael staggered back. "Holy—what are you?!"

The agent's eyes narrowed. "Unstable. Your abilities are raw, unfocused. Dangerous."

Michael wiped rain from his face. "Yeah? Well, they're mine now."

The agent moved again—too fast. Michael knew he couldn't dodge this time. His instincts screamed. Do something!

Time didn't just stop.

It shattered.

The air around Michael cracked like glass, fragments of reality breaking apart and rearranging themselves. The agent's punch never connected—because suddenly, Michael wasn't there anymore.

He stumbled forward, now ten feet away. I just…teleported?

The agent's expression didn't change. But he adjusted his stance, as if recalibrating.

"You're adapting too fast," he muttered. "This is a problem."

Before Michael could react, the agent raised a sleek, silver device. A pulse of blue energy shot out, wrapping around him like chains. His muscles locked up—he couldn't move.

"No—!"

His vision blurred. His body felt heavy.

Then, before he blacked out, he saw her.

A figure dropped from above, moving like a shadow. In one fluid motion, she landed behind the agent, drove a blade through his shoulder, and kicked him off Michael. The agent stumbled, his grip on the device loosening. Michael gasped as control of his body returned.

The girl turned to him.

Dark hair, piercing violet eyes, a sleek black combat suit that looked way too high-tech. She moved with the confidence of someone who had done this before.

"You looked like you needed some help."

Michael blinked. "Who the hell are you?"

She smirked. "Evelyn. And if you want to live, you need to come with me. Now."

Michael glanced at the agent—already recovering. More were closing in from the alleys below.

He exhaled sharply. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let's go."

Evelyn grabbed his wrist. "Hold on."

The world around them twisted, folding like an origami puzzle. The rooftop vanished.

And then they were gone.