⸻
The Project Chrona file stayed hidden beneath Rasheed’s mattress.
He had read it so many times that the edges of the pages had begun to fray, yet it answered almost none of the questions burning through his mind.
What was the Chronal Zone?
Who was the hooded man?
And why had his father written Never open this door alone?
The words refused to leave him.
⸻
School offered no escape.
By lunchtime, the whispers had returned.
“That’s the guy from the race.”
“I heard he ran faster than the timing cameras.”
“No way. That’s impossible.”
Rasheed kept his head down as he crossed the courtyard.
He hated attention.
Unfortunately, attention had developed a habit of finding him.
Adesewa dropped into the seat opposite him in the cafeteria.
“You’ve disappeared three times this week.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Busy doing what?”
He hesitated.
“…Thinking.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You need a better hobby.”
For the first time in days, Rasheed laughed.
It was small.
But genuine.
“You look better when you smile,” she said.
“I’ve been told.”
“By your mum?”
He nodded.
“She says I look too much like my dad when I overthink.”
Adesewa’s smile softened.
“I think she’d rather have you smiling than solving every mystery in the city.”
Rasheed looked away.
“If only it were that easy.”
⸻
Across the courtyard, Omar watched them.
His grip tightened around the blue card Dr. Sato had given him.
BECOME THE FASTEST.
He hadn’t thrown it away.
He hadn’t called either.
But every time he looked at it, the words seemed heavier.
⸻
That evening, dark clouds gathered over the city once again.
Rasheed decided to take the long route home.
The streets were crowded with people rushing to beat the rain.
Street vendors packed away their goods.
Children laughed as they chased each other along the sidewalks.
Life felt normal.
Until he heard the explosion.
BOOM!
A city bus swerved violently after a delivery truck ran a red light.
Metal screamed against metal.
The bus crashed into the side of a small convenience store.
Glass exploded onto the pavement.
People screamed.
Smoke poured from the engine.
Rasheed didn’t think.
He ran.
The world slowed.
The screams stretched into long echoes.
Shards of glass floated like glitter in the air.
He reached the wreck in an instant.
A little girl sat frozen inside the bus, trapped beneath a twisted metal seat.
She couldn’t have been older than seven.
“It’s okay,” Rasheed whispered.
She couldn’t hear him.
Time was moving too slowly.
He carefully lifted the crushed frame, pulled her into his arms, and carried her outside before the bus could erupt into flames.
He returned again.
And again.
Each trip lasted only seconds for him.
By the time the world returned to its normal rhythm, every passenger had somehow been pulled to safety.
The bus exploded.
A wave of heat rolled across the street.
People stumbled backward in shock.
“How did they get out?”
“I didn’t see anyone!”
“It happened too fast!”
Rasheed stood at the edge of the crowd, breathing hard, his hoodie pulled low over his face.
No one noticed him.
Almost no one.
The little girl he had rescued looked directly at him.
She smiled.
Tiny red sparks still danced around his shoes before fading into the air.
She tugged on her mother’s sleeve.
“Mummy…”
Her mother, still shaken, looked down.
“The man…”
“What man, sweetheart?”
“The one with the red light.”
She pointed toward Rasheed.
“He saved everyone.”
Her mother searched the crowd but couldn’t tell who the child meant.
“What did he look like?”
The little girl thought for a moment before grinning.
“He looked like…”
“…a red pulse.”
Rasheed’s eyes widened.
For a heartbeat, he simply stood there.
Then he smiled beneath his hood.
A small smile.
The kind his father used to wear.
Before anyone else could notice him, a gust of wind swept through the street.
The mysterious young man vanished.
The little girl kept pointing toward the empty road.
“He was right there.”
Her mother hugged her tightly.
“I know.”
Neither of them realized they had just given a hero his name.
Far above the city, hidden atop an unfinished skyscraper, the hooded stranger watched the rescue unfold.
“The Pulse has begun.”
Then his expression darkened.
“Now the Hunter will move.”
Somewhere else in the city, Omar stared at the blue card one last time.
This time…
He turned it over.
On the back, an address slowly appeared in glowing blue ink.
He whispered to himself,
“Maybe it’s time I stopped coming second.”
The rain began to fall.