The city slept under a veil of fog, unaware of the invisible threads that wove its fate. Rihan moved silently through the empty streets, his senses heightened. Every heartbeat, every breath, every flicker of light seemed amplified—a side effect of his growing command over time.
He had spent days training, testing the limits of his power. Freezing a falling object was easy. Slowing a storm of bullets was exhilarating. But glimpsing possible futures—the myriad paths that branched from a single choice—was exhausting. His mind often felt like it would fracture under the weight of potential realities.
Then came the whispers. At first, he thought it was the wind. But the voices were clear, soft, almost seductive, calling his name from the shadows: "Rihan… Rihan…"
Selara.
Rihan's heart clenched. She was out there, plotting, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Her betrayal had left scars deeper than he wanted to admit. He had trusted her. He had believed in their friendship. Now, she sought dominion over the threads of time itself—and she wouldn't stop until she had it.
A sudden ripple in reality caught his attention. A child crossing the street was about to be hit by a speeding car. Rihan hesitated. Intervening risked altering the flow too drastically. But he couldn't do nothing. Time slowed under his will. The car froze mid-motion, the child suspended in the air, eyes wide in confusion. Rihan gently nudged the boy back to the sidewalk and released the time-stream.
The world surged forward like a released dam. The car roared past harmlessly, and the boy ran home, unaware of the hand that had saved him.
Rihan exhaled, but relief was short-lived. He realized the more he used his power, the more reality trembled. Tiny cracks, almost invisible, appeared in the edges of the world—fractures that could widen if he wasn't careful.
A shadow detached itself from the darkness of an alley. Selara stepped forward, her eyes glinting with cold calculation. "Rihan," she said, voice smooth as silk. "You've grown stronger… but stronger doesn't mean invincible."
He clenched his fists. "I won't let you endanger the world for your greed."
Selara smiled, but there was no warmth. "The world? Or your precious sense of control? You think you understand this power, but you're only scratching the surface. Soon, you'll see that time doesn't forgive hesitation."
Before he could react, she vanished into a ripple of distorted light. Rihan felt a chill in his bones. She had learned to bend time too—or at least manipulate its flow in short bursts.
Alone again, Rihan's resolve hardened. Training was no longer enough. He needed allies, knowledge, and strategies beyond raw power. Selara wasn't just a threat; she was a warning of what time itself could unleash if wielded recklessly.
And in the depths of the city, unseen by him, the shadows whispered again: "The threads are moving, Rihan… but can you control them before they unravel?"
Rihan tightened his coat around him and stepped into the misty night. Every second counted, and every choice had consequences. The real test of his power—and of his heart—was only beginning.