Arden Hayes woke to the sound of an alarm that wasn't his, a sharp, insistent beep-beep-beep that drilled into his skull like a woodpecker on steroids. He groaned, flailing an arm out from under the stiff gray blanket to smack his phone. Nothing. The noise kept going. He cracked an eye open, squinting through the blur of no glasses, and realized two things: one, this wasn't his room; two, the alarm was coming from a sleek black box on the wall, glowing with red digits. 06:45.
"Chrono Academy," he muttered, the words sinking in like a bad dream he couldn't shake. Yesterday flooded back, dodgeball, Lila, the portal, Professor Marrow's lecture about time-weaving. Not a prank. Not a game. Real.
He sat up, rubbing his face, and fumbled for his glasses on the nightstand. The dorm room was small but weirdly fancy, polished wood floor, a desk with a built-in clock (of course), and a window overlooking that shimmering campus. A gray uniform hung on the wardrobe door, complete with a jacket that looked too cool for someone like him. Arden Hayes didn't do cool.
"Better than gym clothes," he grumbled, dragging himself out of bed. He threw on the uniform, pants, shirt, jacket, adjusting the collar in the mirror. It fit better than he expected, but he still felt like an impostor. A guy who tripped over dodgeballs didn't belong in a place like this.
The alarm hit 06:55. Classes at 07:00, Marrow had said. Arden grabbed his backpack, still stuffed with Willow Creek junk like a half-eaten granola bar and a crumpled history notebook and bolted out the door.
The halls of Chrono Academy buzzed with chaos. Students darted past, some chatting, some half-asleep, all moving like they knew where they were going. Arden didn't. He clutched a slip of paper Lila had shoved at him last night, Room 3-B, Basics of Temporal Control, and scanned the walls for signs. Clocks everywhere, ticking in sync, but no room numbers.
"Lost already, newbie?" A voice cut through the noise, smug and familiar. Arden turned to see Jaxon Reed leaning against a wall, arms crossed, that buzz-cut head tilted with a grin. His uniform was sloppy jacket unbuttoned, tie loose, like he'd rolled out of bed and didn't care.
"Not lost," Arden lied, shoving the paper in his pocket. "Just… figuring it out."
"Sure you are." Jaxon pushed off the wall, falling into step beside him. "3-B's this way. Stick with me, Dodgeball, or you'll be late and Marrow'll chew you out."
"Don't call me that," Arden muttered, but he followed anyway. Jaxon was annoying, but at least he knew the layout. They turned a corner, dodging a kid juggling three glowing orbs seriously? and stopped at a door marked 3-B in sleek silver letters.
"After you," Jaxon said, smirking as he held the door. Arden stepped inside, bracing for whatever fresh weirdness awaited.
The classroom was smaller than he'd expected, maybe twenty desks in a semicircle facing a wide window. Half were filled students whispering, flipping through books with titles like Temporal Dynamics 101. At the front stood Professor Marrow, scribbling on a chalkboard that shimmered like it was made of liquid. Arden slid into a seat near the back, Jaxon dropping into the one beside him.
"Made it," Jaxon whispered. "Lucky you."
"Shut up," Arden hissed, but he couldn't argue. The clock above Marrow hit 07:00, and the professor turned, clapping chalk dust off his hands.
"Good morning," Marrow said, voice sharp enough to cut glass. "Eyes up, mouths shut. We're starting with introductions powers and triggers. You'll know your peers; they'll know you. No hiding here."
Arden sank lower in his seat. Great. Public speaking wasn't his thing, and now he had to spill about the dodgeball fiasco again?
Marrow pointed to a girl in the front row petite, dark hair in a braid, eyes fixed on her desk. "You. Start."
She stood, voice soft but steady. "Mira Kline. I can slow time two seconds max, so far. It sparked when I tripped down the stairs and didn't want to hit the bottom."
A few kids nodded, like that made perfect sense. Arden stared. Slowing time? To avoid a fall? This place was nuts.
Next was Jaxon. He stood, grinning like he owned the room. "Jaxon Reed. Rewind time, three seconds. Sparked when I dropped my phone off a balcony caught it before it smashed."
"Showoff," Arden muttered under his breath. Jaxon winked at him as he sat.
One by one, they went. A guy who could speed time up to dodge chores. A girl who froze it to cheat on a test. Then Marrow's finger landed on Arden.
"Hayes. Up."
Arden's stomach flipped. He stood, legs wobbly, and cleared his throat. "Uh, Arden Hayes. I… stop time. Five seconds, I think. It happened when a dodgeball was gonna hit me in gym."
Silence. Then a snicker from the back. "Dodgeball?" someone whispered. Jaxon chuckled beside him, and Arden's face burned.
"Five seconds is notable," Marrow said, cutting through the noise. "Untrained, yet strong. Sit."
Arden dropped back into his chair, mortified but relieved. Notable? He'd take it.
Marrow paced to the board. "Powers vary, stop, slow, rewind, accelerate. Triggers are emotional, fear, panic, desperation. Your job is to control them, not let them control you. First exercise: pair up, test your range."
Partners?" Jaxon turned to Arden, eyebrow raised. "You and me, Dodgeball?"
"Stop calling me that," Arden groaned, but he nodded. Better Jaxon than some rando.
Across the room, Mira glanced their way, her dark eyes catching his for a split second before she looked down. Arden frowned. Something about her felt… off. Quiet, sure, but more than that.
"Focus!" Marrow snapped, tossing a small rubber ball onto each desk. "Stop it, slow it, rewind it five minutes. Go."
Jaxon snatched their ball, tossing it up with a grin. "Let's see that five-second magic, Hayes."
Arden sighed, adjusting his glasses. Day one, and he was already in over his head. But as the ball arced toward him, that familiar panic flickered and with it, a spark of something he couldn't quite name.