The morning light filtered through the cracks in the shack, casting strange shadows across the room. Justin sat at the edge of his bed, his fingers gently tapping the cover of the book he'd hidden beneath it for the past four months. The anticipation gnawed at him, a feeling he'd never quite experienced before. He'd spent countless nights unable to sleep, his mind racing with what he could possibly do with the power he'd gained. This was the day.
12:19 AM. His heart raced as the clock on the wall blinked. He quickly pulled the book out, his hands trembling slightly as he opened it to the first blank page. The weight of the moment felt heavier than anything he'd ever experienced.
With a deep breath, Justin focused. His eyes flickered between the blank page and his reflection in the cracked mirror above his bed. He wasn't just drawing for himself anymore. He was drawing for freedom—for the power to stand tall and be something more than what everyone had always expected him to be. He knew he couldn't waste this opportunity.
With a determination that had never before settled so firmly in his chest, Justin took the pencil in his hand and placed it to the page. The first stroke was like a spark. He drew his body, his muscles swelling beneath his skin. The second stroke, more fluid than the first, added agility, the feeling of quickness and speed enveloping him. His mind raced through the possibilities as his hand moved with newfound confidence.
His fingers didn't leave the paper but once. His drawing was near complete. He made sure the edges were sharp, the air currents swirling behind his drawn figure to show how fast and agile he had become. A final stroke, a swirl of energy that surrounded him. Power.
The book began to hum in response, as if the lines he'd drawn had set something in motion. This was it. This was real.
Justin held his breath for a moment, then stood up. He walked outside, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Time to test it. He faced the nearest tree, took a deep breath, and with a single, confident punch, he swung his fist forward.
The tree collapsed instantly with a loud crack.
Justin stood frozen, staring at his hands. It worked. He didn't know how or why, but it worked. His body had changed with his drawing. He had strength, speed, and agility. No more would he be the weak, helpless boy at the mercy of those who liked to make his life miserable.
"I can finally do this," he whispered to himself.
Without wasting another second, Justin sprinted. His feet barely touched the ground as he ran faster than he ever thought possible, covering the three miles between his shack and the construction site in what felt like an instant. The wind in his face, the earth beneath him, everything felt alive. Joy—true joy—rushed through him, but he didn't know what this feeling was. It was something new, something he never imagined he'd experience. Happiness.
---
Two Months Later...
Despite the newfound strength coursing through his veins, Justin's life was far from easy. The world still had ways of knocking him back down, no matter how strong he became.
His boss was still the same old tyrant, finding ways to make his life miserable. During one particular shift, after Justin had worked tirelessly through the day, his boss pulled him aside.
"You're doing good work now, Reyes," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But don't get too cocky. You're just a construction worker, no matter how strong you get."
It wasn't much of a threat, but the words stung. Justin clenched his fists and walked away without saying a word.
Then there was his coworkers. They still didn't like him. Even though he was faster, more efficient than any of them, they never hesitated to remind him of his place. Sometimes, they'd make cruel remarks. One of them threw a rock in his direction during lunch break, laughing as it landed near his feet.
"Still the same ol' Reyes. Think you're better now, huh?" one of them jeered.
It wasn't just the men at work. Justin's grandmother continued her spiral into self-destruction. The few times he tried to interact with her, hoping for something that resembled a real conversation, she'd just ignore him or mumble insults under her breath.
"Don't think you can get out of here, boy," she slurred, eyes glazed over. "You think you can leave me behind just 'cause you're all strong now? You're still a failure."
---
Among all the disdain Justin encountered, there was one who was different. Elara. A woman in her late twenties, with striking blue hair and a kind smile that made Justin feel like there was still something good in the world. She visited the construction site often, her family's house being one of the many properties being worked on.
Her beauty was undeniable, but there was more to her than just her appearance. She wasn't like the others. She saw Justin for what he was—a survivor, not just a broken boy in a tough world.
Justin noticed her watching him from afar sometimes, her expression kind, thoughtful. She was a contrast to everyone else.
One afternoon, as Justin was wiping the sweat from his brow, Elara approached him. Her voice was soft but steady as she spoke.
"You've been working so hard, Justin," she said, her blue hair swaying gently in the breeze. "It's inspiring. I've been watching you. I think… maybe we should talk sometime. You don't have to be alone, you know."
Her words were unexpected. Comforting. But before Justin could say anything, a strange, whistling sound filled the air.
---
Without warning, the air around the construction site began to shift. The sky above them darkened, and a violent windstorm erupted, tossing the bags of cement into the air, swirling them in all directions. Dust clouds rose, and the workers scrambled for cover.
A portal appeared above the site. Elara staggered back, her eyes wide with disbelief.
From the swirling void came three figures, stepping into the world as if they belonged. One of them spoke, their voice a strange mix of amusement and malice.
"Another timeline, huh? Looks like shit, innit?"
Elara recoiled in shock, but Justin stood still. Something deep inside him told him this wasn't just a coincidence. This was the beginning of something larger.
Elsewhere, across the city, in a shadowed office, a man watched the events unfold. His expression was calm, but his words were sharp.
"012, another echo."
A moment later, three more individuals stepped into action. They were coming for Justin.