CHAPTER 15: VANISHED TIME

The soft murmur of voices in the classroom came to an abrupt halt as John stepped through the door.

The silence that followed was not one of welcome—but of judgment. Dozens of eyes turned toward him, each gaze heavy with something colder than curiosity: disdain.

It spread like a quiet contagion—smirks, whispers, the low hiss of mockery riding under breath.

"Look who finally decided to show up."

"He missed the deadline. He's finished."

"Why'd he even bother coming back?"

John's steps faltered only slightly. He kept his eyes on the front of the room, on Miss Julie, who sat stiffly behind her desk. Her stern gaze pierced through the hush like a blade.

"John?" Her voice cracked across the room, sharp and unyielding. "What are you doing here?"

The humiliation burned under his skin, but John forced himself forward. He reached into his bag, pulled out the project folder—clean, organized, complete—and held it out with both hands. "I… I came to hand in my project," he said, quietly. "It's done."

A beat of shocked silence passed over the room like a wave.

Miss Julie blinked, her expression unreadable as she took the folder. Her eyes scanned its contents with practiced precision. The classroom held its breath.

Then, finally, she spoke.

"The project itself is correct, John. Comprehensive. Surprisingly well done, even." She looked up, meeting his eyes with a cold finality. "But you are not on time. You're two full days late. Because of that… I have no choice. Your name will be removed from the school register. You don't need to return."

John's world tilted.

Two days?

His mind reeled. He turned toward the clock above the blackboard. The date. The calendar. They were right. How could that be? He had fallen from the lab window just yesterday—hadn't he?

But he remembered it all too vividly now: the strange worlds, the ancient forest, the divine stone, the creature that passed light into his hands. He had crossed something far greater than time. Something that didn't follow clocks or calendars.

Still, how could he explain that?

His mouth opened. I can tell them. I can explain. But the thought died in his throat. Who would believe him? Who would understand?

He swallowed the truth and nodded stiffly, lifting the folder from her desk.

Without another word, he turned and walked out.

Silence followed him—real silence. Not the mocking kind this time, but a heavy, uncertain quiet. Even his classmates, who had so readily dismissed him moments ago, now looked at him with something approaching confusion. Maybe even awe.

Because somehow, he had finished the impossible. In their minds, he had no time. And yet, he had done it.

Miss Julie looked down at the now-empty desk, frowning. There was something about the project—something beyond just its completeness. A strange aura, a precision, a spark she hadn't seen in student work before.

Did he really do this alone?

Outside, John paused at the foot of the school stairs. He turned and looked back one last time. The building stood tall and impassive, just as it always had. But to him, it felt different now. Distant. Closed.

A heavy sadness pressed down on him.

He wasn't sure what stung more—the fact that no one believed him, or the fact that maybe it didn't even matter anymore.

He turned and walked toward the main gate. Every step felt heavier than the last.

And just as he neared the iron bars, just when he thought it was all behind him—a hand gripped his shoulder.

It was firm. Heavy. Unmistakably adult.

John froze.

He didn't need to turn around to know this wasn't just a student. It wasn't Julie Ma'am either.

It was someone else.

Someone who knew more than he was letting on.