Justin stood frozen, his breath shallow as he stared at the three figures emerging from the portal. His muscles tensed. His eyes locked onto one of them—a woman with a familiar face.
His grandmother.
But… not quite.
Her stance was rigid, her expression cold, her presence unsettlingly different. And yet, her features were nearly identical to the woman who had raised him—if "raised" was even the right word.
Justin took a hesitant step forward, his hands trembling. "Grandma?"
The woman's icy stare didn't waver. Then—she lunged.
Justin barely dodged as her fist came within inches of his face. The force of the strike shattered the ground where he had just stood.
"What the hell?!" he shouted, twisting away.
A sharp click.
Justin turned just in time to see the man next to her raise a pistol and point it directly at his forehead.
His instincts screamed.
The gun fired.
But Justin wasn't there anymore.
His body moved before his mind could process, shifting just enough for the bullet to miss by mere inches. The air rippled from the shot's force.
Justin landed a few feet away, his breathing ragged. His eyes darted between the three attackers.
Then he noticed something—his supposed grandmother's mole was on the wrong side.
"That's not my grandma," he muttered under his breath. "Her left mole is on the right side."
Whoever these people were, they weren't from this world.
But they wanted him dead.
Fine.
They could try.
Justin moved.
He dashed forward, his speed unnatural, his body weaving between the gunman's rapid-fire shots. The bullets grazed past him, but he closed the distance in a blink. His fist met the gunman's ribs with bone-crushing force.
The man crumpled.
Justin pivoted, barely dodging a strike from the fake grandmother. She came at him again, her movements eerily efficient—too precise, too robotic.
Justin countered with a kick, sending her skidding backward.
The third attacker, a muscular brute with crackling energy dancing across his fists, stepped forward with a smirk. "You're fast," he admitted, rolling his shoulders. "Let's see how you handle this."
The ground exploded beneath Justin's feet as the brute slammed his fists down, sending shockwaves in every direction. The force nearly knocked Justin off balance.
But he adjusted.
Using his enhanced agility, he parkoured off a half-built scaffold, flipping through the air. As he landed, he snatched a discarded metal beam, spun it in his grip, and hurled it like a javelin.
It struck the brute square in the chest, sending him staggering into the portal's swirling energy.
Justin wasted no time.
He rushed forward, dodging the remaining attacker's desperate strikes. With one final push, he shoved all three of them into the portal.
The swirling mass of energy crackled.
And then—it closed.
Silence.
Justin stood panting, his knuckles bloodied. He turned to see a group of three figures standing nearby, watching with stunned expressions.
"Did he just… handle the Echo himself?" one of them—a girl with piercing eyes and a striking presence—whispered in disbelief. She looked about Justin's age.
A sharp voice crackled through their earpieces.
"Get him to the Framework."
Before Justin could react, the three strangers moved.
He turned to run—but an energy field materialized around him, crackling like electrified steel.
Justin slammed against it, but it held firm.
He was trapped.
—
The energy field dissolved as Justin was dragged into a sterile, high-tech facility. The walls pulsed with strange neon circuits, casting eerie shadows.
"Let me go!" he shouted, thrashing against his captors.
No response.
A figure approached—a man with silver streaks in his hair and sharp, calculating eyes.
"You—are you one of the Gifted?" the man asked, his voice controlled but firm.
Justin narrowed his eyes. "What the hell are you talking about?"
The man exhaled, folding his arms. "For four years, Temporal Echoes have been manifesting in this world—portals to alternate timelines. We can't control how or when they come. But we know one thing—whatever steps through is dangerous."
Justin stiffened.
"They could be good versions of the bad," the man continued, "or bad versions of the good. Sometimes… they're just different versions with minor changes."
Justin's stomach twisted.
"Like… my grandma," he muttered.
The man nodded.
"Normally, it takes an entire team to handle an Echo," he said. "You did it alone. You have potential. We can see it."
Justin swallowed hard. His hands clenched into fists.
"Are you willing to join the Framework?"
The air around them grew heavy.
The man's voice dropped lower.
"Have it in mind—if you refuse, we will have no choice but to eliminate you."