The knowledge burned within Tejas like a secret fire. He had super-speed. The concept was so outlandish, so utterly impossible, yet the memory of moving like thought itself in his small bedroom was undeniable. He spent the next few days in a daze, going through the motions of college life, nodding along in lectures while his mind raced with questions. How fast could he go? What were the limits? And the biggest question of all: what was he supposed to do now?
He knew he couldn't keep testing his power in his room. He needed space, privacy, somewhere he wouldn't accidentally run through a wall or crash into his bookshelf. His mind scanned the familiar landscape of his daily commute. There was an old textile mill near the railway tracks, abandoned for years, its windows boarded up, surrounded by a crumbling brick wall. It was perfect.
That Saturday afternoon, telling his parents he was going to a study group, Tejas made his way to the abandoned mill. He easily slipped through a gap in the wall and found himself in a vast, echoing space. The main factory floor was huge, littered with the decaying husks of old machinery and piles of debris, but offering long, clear stretches of dusty concrete.
His heart pounded with a mix of fear and excitement. He took a deep breath and focused, remembering the feeling from his room – that effortless glide. He thought about reaching the far wall, maybe fifty meters away.
He pushed off.
WHOOSH!
The wall slammed into his vision instantly. He hadn't run; he had appeared. The sudden stop jarred his entire body. He blinked, disoriented. It was faster than he could even think.
He tried again, aiming for the opposite wall. WHOOSH! Back again. He experimented, trying to move shorter distances, focusing on control. He ran back and forth across the massive floor, slowly getting a feel for it. It wasn't like running; it was like willing himself from one point to another, his body a blur in between.
He grew bolder. He ran in circles around the main floor, a vortex of displaced air stirring up decades of dust. Faster and faster he went, pushing his limits. He felt an incredible exhilaration, a sense of freedom unlike anything he had ever known. The world outside his blur seemed to slow down, the dust motes hanging almost still in the shafts of light filtering through the broken roof.
Then he felt it. Heat. A friction burn starting on his shoulders and legs. He skidded to a stop, looking down. His simple cotton t-shirt and jeans were smoking slightly where the air had rubbed against them at incredible speed. There were already small, frayed holes appearing.
Okay, he thought, note to self: normal clothes don't survive super-speed. Another problem his scientific mind latched onto.
He spent another hour practicing, learning to control his acceleration and deceleration, learning to perceive the world while moving at speed, learning how to turn without simply crashing. He discovered he could react incredibly fast, dodging falling debris from the ceiling with effortless grace. The power felt less like a tool and more like an extension of his own body, his own will.
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the factory floor, Tejas knew it was time to go home. He was exhausted but buzzing with energy. He slipped back out of the abandoned mill, his mind racing with the possibilities and the problems his new power presented.
He was walking through a moderately crowded market street, taking a familiar shortcut home, when he heard raised voices. Ahead, near a dimly lit alleyway, a man had cornered a young woman. He was much larger than her, blocking her path, his voice aggressive and threatening as he demanded her purse. The woman looked terrified, clutching her bag, looking desperately for help, but the evening crowd hurried past, unwilling to get involved.
Tejas froze. His first instinct was to call the police again. But he remembered the lab, the fire, the helplessness of waiting. He looked at the fear in the woman's eyes, the arrogance on the man's face. He couldn't just stand by. Not anymore. Not now that he could do something.
But he couldn't reveal himself. He needed a disguise, fast. He looked down at his slightly frayed clothes. He was wearing a simple hoodie. Without a second thought, he pulled the hood up deep over his head, casting his face into shadow. He then pulled the collar of his t-shirt up over his nose and mouth, leaving only his eyes visible. It wasn't much, but in the dim light, it would have to do.
He took a deep breath, focused, and moved.
To the bully, one second he was menacing the woman, the next second something hit him hard from the side, like being struck by a speeding motorcycle. He didn't even see it coming. He was thrown off balance, stumbling sideways, confusion and pain flashing across his face.
The woman gasped, looking around wildly. Where had the impact come from?
Before the bully could recover, Tejas moved again. A blur. The man felt a sharp, sudden pain in his wrist as his hand was twisted, forcing him to drop the woman's purse he had just grabbed. Simultaneously, he felt a powerful shove from behind that sent him sprawling onto the grimy pavement.
He landed hard, the air knocked out of him. He looked up, dazed, trying to see his attacker. But there was nothing there. Just the terrified woman, who quickly snatched her purse back, and the indifferent crowd hurrying past.
Tejas was already gone.
From the moment he decided to act to the moment the bully hit the ground, maybe two seconds had passed. To any casual observer, it would have looked like the man simply tripped and fell spectacularly. But the woman knew. She looked around, her eyes searching the shadows, whispering a thank you to the empty air.
Tejas didn't stop. He ran, not at full speed, but fast enough to be a blur, putting several blocks between himself and the scene in mere seconds. He ducked into another dark alley, his heart pounding, adrenaline singing in his veins. He leaned against a wall, pulling down his makeshift mask, gasping for air not from exertion, but from the sheer intensity of what he had just done.
He had used his power. He had saved someone. And no one had seen him.
A slow smile spread across his face. It felt… right. Terrifying, yes. Dangerous, absolutely. But right.
He took a few moments to compose himself, then slowly walked the rest of the way home as normal, melting back into the anonymous Mumbai crowd, just another student heading home after a long day.
Later that night, sitting at his desk, Tejas wasn't studying physics. He was staring at a blank sheet of paper, a pencil in his hand. The image of his smoldering clothes at the abandoned mill, the need for anonymity he felt when saving the woman – the problems were clear. If he was going to do this, if he was going to use this incredible power to help people, to be a saviour, he couldn't just rely on hoodies and luck.
He needed something more. He needed protection from friction. He needed a disguise that was better than a pulled-up t-shirt. He needed a suit.
His scientific mind kicked into gear. What materials could withstand extreme friction and heat? What design would allow for maximum speed and minimal drag? How could he incorporate protection and anonymity?
He began to sketch. Lines and shapes appeared on the paper – sleek, aerodynamic, functional. He wasn't just designing a costume; he was engineering a solution. The first rough design for his future identity began to take shape, born from necessity and a newfound, burning sense of purpose.
[To be continued…]
Support me: vanshbosssrahate@oksbi (UPI ID)
Author: Vansh Rahate
Editor: Vansh Rahate
Story by: Vansh Rahate
Under: Alaukika Studios