Chapter 3: The Hidden War

Michael's stomach lurched as the world twisted inside out. One second he was on the rain-soaked rooftop, the next—

They reappeared in a dimly lit room. No transition, no warning. Just instant displacement. His knees buckled, and he barely caught himself on a metal table. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, the sensation of being ripped from one place and thrown into another making his skin crawl.

"What the hell was that?!" he gasped, trying to steady himself.

Evelyn locked the door behind them, her movements smooth and efficient, like she had done this a thousand times before. "Spatial shift. You'll get used to it."

Michael took deep breaths, trying to stop his head from spinning. "Yeah, not happening." He looked around, his sharp eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. The room was compact yet cluttered—old maps, scattered documents, and a row of monitors flickering with security footage. A dull hum filled the space, a mix of electronic devices and distant city noise seeping in through the walls. It looked like something straight out of a spy movie.

"Where are we?" he asked, cautiously stepping forward.

"Safe house," Evelyn replied, walking over to a terminal. "For now."

Michael ran a hand through his damp hair, his brain catching up to everything. "Alright. Start talking. Who the hell were those guys? And why were they shooting at me like I stole state secrets?"

Evelyn glanced at him, then back at the screen. "Because you did."

Michael blinked. "What?"

She pulled up a feed. Surveillance footage showed him on the rooftop, dodging bullets, time distorting around him. Another screen displayed government files, his face stamped with a red mark: UNSTABLE ANOMALY – IMMEDIATE TERMINATION.

Michael felt his stomach drop. "They want me dead?"

Evelyn leaned against the desk, arms crossed. "Welcome to the Hidden War."

Michael sat heavily on the edge of the table. His pulse pounded in his ears. "Yeah, no. You need to explain. Now."

Evelyn folded her arms. "You triggered something you weren't supposed to. Time isn't just some abstract concept—it's a force. And like any force, it has rules."

Michael narrowed his eyes. "And those guys were… what? The time police?"

She shook her head. "The Sentinels. One of many factions. They keep a tight leash on people like us. If someone awakens uncontrolled time abilities, they wipe them out before things spiral."

Michael scoffed. "That's insane."

Evelyn tilted her head. "You just teleported without meaning to. Does that sound normal to you?"

Michael opened his mouth, then closed it. She had a point.

"So what now?" he asked. "They're going to keep coming, aren't they?"

Evelyn nodded. "Until you learn to control your powers, you're a walking disaster. And they hate wildcards."

Michael exhaled sharply. "Great. And you? What's your deal?"

She hesitated for a fraction of a second. "I belong to a different faction. One that believes people like you deserve a choice."

Michael studied her. There was something unreadable in her expression. "And what do you believe?" he asked.

She met his gaze, unblinking. "That you better learn fast. Because next time? I might not be there to save you."

Before Michael could respond, the screens flickered. An alarm beeped. Evelyn's eyes darkened. "Damn it. They found us."

Michael's heartbeat spiked. "Already?!"

"Sentinels don't mess around." She grabbed a sleek-looking pistol from the table and tossed him a small device. "Brace yourself."

The walls trembled. Outside, footsteps pounded against the ground. Voices barked orders.

Michael gripped the device. "What is this?"

"Emergency displacement beacon," Evelyn said. "If things go south, hit it. It'll get you somewhere safe. Maybe."

"Maybe?" Michael hissed. "That's not exactly comforting."

Evelyn smirked. "Welcome to my world."

The sound of metal being cut filled the air. The door was being breached.

Michael clenched his fists. He barely understood what was happening, but one thing was clear—his life was never going back to normal.