The side effects came later.
Not immediately.
But gradually.
Jared noticed it during class.
His thoughts—
Were slower.
Not by much.
But enough.
"…processing delay," he muttered.
"…you're tired," Iris said.
"…unexpected."
"…you've been pushing nonstop."
Jared leaned back in his chair.
He replayed everything.
The fight.
The experiment.
The constant analysis.
Conclusion: overload.
"…there's a limit," he said.
"…finally."
"…cognitive strain detected."
"…that means you need rest."
"…inefficient."
"…HUMAN."
Jared paused.
That word again.
Human.
He didn't like how unclear it was.
He stood up—but his movement wasn't as precise as before.
That bothered him.
"…control decreasing," he said.
"…that's because you're exhausted."
"…temporary."
"…if you keep this up, it won't be."
Silence.
Jared sat back down.
Slower this time.
More deliberate.
For the first time since discovering his ability—
He stopped thinking.
Or at least—
Tried to.
Iris sat beside him.
Not talking.
Not pushing.
Just there.
Jared noticed.
Variable: Iris.
Effect: stabilizing.
"…don't call me that," she said.
"…noted."
He closed his eyes.
Just for a moment.
Not to calculate.
Not to analyze.
Just to rest.
Because now he understood something important.
This power could make him stronger.
Smarter.
Better.
But it wasn't free.
And if he pushed too far—
It would push back.
Harder.