A grunt tore out of me as I came back, a slow process as I tried, and failed, to open my eyes. They felt glued shut. My head throbbed like the inside of my skull had been hollowed out and refilled with wet sand. I tried to understand why I was in such a state as I rolled to my side and belatedly realized I was on my bed. Raising my hand, I rubbed my face, then my eyes.

  Something flaky came off under my fingers.

  I rubbed it off as my eyes opened. Instantly, my breath was stolen as I looked at the room, it was hyper-clear. Every dust mote in the air. Every thread in the bedsheet. The tiny crack in the paint near the ceiling I'd never noticed before.

  It was like someone had dialed reality up to 4K. Looking down, I saw I was covered in a reddish-brown, flaky substance. My shirt was stiff and smelled of iron, and my bed was also covered in it.

  I braced myself and swung my legs off the bed to stand, shocked at how fast I stood up without any wobbling. I stared at my hand, still a little hazy, and realized the stuff I was covered in was my dried blood. My breathing quickened in my disorientation.

  "...Jesus," I muttered.

  I swallowed and looked around the room, then at the window. It was dark. I looked at the clock: 5:43 am.

  I had slept for nearly 24 hrs...I thought, slowly calming myself and bringing my breathing back to normal.

  I need to get a shower...I thought, feeling a little queasy covered in my own dried blood, and clean my bed... It looked like a grisly murder site.

  I stood under the shower, bracing my hands on the walls, head down as the hot water washed away the blood.

  I survived... and I'm different now. There was something else. My thoughts were faster, and I could pick up the smallest details. Every droplet was clearly visible with crystal clarity. I could track each one individually, its shape, the way it deformed on impact, how it split into smaller beads.

  My brain cataloged it automatically.

  Trajectory. Speed. Pattern.

  There was something else. It was like slowing down your heartbeat by controlling your breathing, and all of a sudden, the water flowing over me, the droplets from the showerhead slowed to a near stop as everything slowed down. I could hear my own breathing and my heartbeat. I stood there, awed at my perception.

  "...No way," I whispered.

  Spartan time...I thought, feeling a grin forming on my face.

  Then, I toggledit off, as everything resumed moving at a normal pace.

  My heart raced.

  Holy shit... It worked.

  I knew instantly there was no way for me to use this at its full potential without further augmentation, but this was proof that all the pain and the near-death experience was worth it. I wrapped a towel around my lower body and got out of the shower, reaching the basin where I stood in front of the mirror. My body still looked a little famished and underweight, but I still had some bulk and muscle definition. I ran my fingers through my wet brown hair and then traced my scars on my chest and thought, Well, at least it didn't look like I'd cannibalized myself this time.

  I wasn't sure why that was, and I probably had to be careful using the Codex in the future.I shook my head and left for my room.

  I dressed and cleaned the room for almost an hour, scrubbing sheets, wiping dried blood off the floorboards, flipping the mattress like I was covering up evidence.By the time I was done, the sun had risen.

  I made myself a coffee, mixing it with cream and sugar. My thoughts felt clear, incredibly fast, and I realized I could partition my thoughts and do things simultaneously. Stirring the cup, I noticed from the corner of my eye a fly buzzing around me. I could see the individual beats of its wings, its intricate design, and the light refracting from the membrane, and marveled at what I was seeing. Before...

  I would've swatted and missed.

  Now...

  My hand flashed through the air before I consciously decided and...

  Snap.

  ...Caught it.

  Immediately, I felt a jolt of pain run through my hand, from my shoulders to my forearms.

  I hissed and let it go as it zipped away.

  Despite the pain, I felt a sense of glee at what I had just done.

  Of course, my body can't keep up with the speed I can now move at...

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  I made my way to the couch, drinking the coffee I just made, as the pain in my arm slowly ebbed away.

  I need to find out what I'm capable of, I thought.

  I got up and changed into workout clothes from my closet, a nice hoodie and some track pants. I dressed quickly, picked up my wallet, keys, and my phone, and made my way out of my apartment, ensuring I locked the door as I turned to leave and head for the stairs. Then I heard a loud bang and yelling from the apartment adjacent to mine.

  I frowned as I took a few steps towards it. Eli's memories told me the Campbells lived there: Gloria, a middle-aged single mother, her youngest son, Matt, and her older daughter, Ruby.

  She was a good woman, helped out where she could, especially after Eli's father's death, leaving me here in Carmen's care. Heck, Carmen was very young back then, barely an adult. I remember Gloria teaching Carmen how to cook. Even after Carmen left after I joined the army, Gloria still took care of me, making meals and such.

  I reached their door as it flew open. I leaned back at the last moment, thanking my newly gained reflexes. I looked as a buxom blond girl came out, nearly barreling into me. She stumbled to the side, missing me, and looked at me in surprise, not having expected anyone to be there. Her face was a mix of anger and stubborn pride. She calmed a little as she recognized me but still glared up at me.

  "What are you... Why are you standing here?" she spat out.

  I could tell she was angry at me, and just as I was about to answer, a loud, motherly voice called out.

  "Ruby Magnolias Campbell, just because you're an adult now doesn't mean you can talk back to me, AND YOU ARE NOT GOING TO THAT PARTY!!"

  Gloria came into view from the doorway, her face filled with maternal anger and weariness. Ruby scowled, turning to her mother and saying in an angry voice, "That's what being an adult means, choosing what I can do."

  She turned from her mother and walked past me, uttering, "Aren't you supposed to be in Iraq killing Muslims?"

  Damn brat... I thought. And she used to be a sweet kid, too...

  I stood in the hallway awkwardly, feeling like I was invading another family's drama. Gloria sighed and looked at me with a tired yet warm smile. She was an older version of her daughter, with some wrinkles and some weight around her midsection.

  "Elias, you're back!" She stepped forward to give me a

  hug.

  I hugged her back a second later. It felt weird; I didn't really know this woman, but Eli did.

  "Sorry... I didn't mean to intrude..." I said, stepping back, referring to me overhearing their private argument.

  "Don't worry, deary. That girl, I don't know what to do with her. She's changed after joining NYU," she said quietly, shaking her head sadly.

  I didn't say anything. She continued, "You're looking underweight. You should eat more. You will join us for dinner," she said, looking me in the eye, already expecting my presence.

  I smiled at her concern and could only accept.

  "Mom!" A voice called out from inside the house.

  "Coming..." She called out, then turning to me, "Come by in the evening,

  alright?"

  "Sure," I said as she closed the door. I then made my way down the staircase and outside.

  Outside, morning light spilled between the brick buildings in soft, slanted bands, catching on fire escapes and window glass.The air carried that cool spring bite that hadn't quite given way to summer yet. The Greek bakery on the corner was rolling up its shutters, the metal rattling loudly as warm air and the scent of fresh loaves drifted out onto the sidewalk.

  A woman in scrubs walked a tiny white dog that looked like it hated the morning as much as she did. Somewhere behind me, a car rolled past with the windows down, early-2000s hip-hop thumping just a little too loud for 7 a.m. I started jogging without really deciding to.

  Past 30th Avenue. Past the corner deli with yesterday's newspapers still stacked by the door. Toward Astoria Park.

  I felt different.

  My stride felt... different. Every step landed exactly where it needed to. There was no wasted motion, no heel slap, no wobble to my legs as I raised them. My body adjusted automatically, tiny corrections in my ankles, hips, shoulders—all happening without me telling them to.

  I grinned, excited, and increased my pace.

  Let see how fast I can go.