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Noah didn't sleep much that night.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the convenience store again—the guns, the shouting, the way the bullets had curved just enough to miss. His body still remembered the fear. His hands still felt like they were shaking, even when they weren't.
He woke up before his alarm, staring at the stained ceiling of the motel.
"…Okay," he whispered. "Training day."
He sat up, stretched, and almost laughed from nerves.
Yesterday he was an office worker worrying about instant noodles.
Today he was a guy in Gotham with reality-bending powers.
After a quick cup of cheap motel coffee and half a packet of noodles, Noah grabbed his jacket and slipped out while the sky was still gray. He didn't want people around for this. Too many eyes meant too many problems.
He walked until the buildings thinned and the streets got quieter, finally finding an abandoned lot between two crumbling warehouses. Broken glass. Weeds. A rusted fence.
Perfect.
He stood in the middle of the lot and took a deep breath.
"Alright," he said softly. "Let's not blow up the universe."
He closed his eyes and reached inward.
System?
[Online.]
I want to understand my limits.
[Acknowledged.]
He picked up a small rock from the ground.
"Okay… simple test."
He tossed it into the air and focused.
Make it land on that crack, he thought, pointing to a thin line in the concrete a few meters away.
The rock wobbled in midair—just slightly—then dropped… landing perfectly on the crack.
Noah's eyes widened.
"…No way."
He tried again. Another rock. Another tiny adjustment. Same result.
It wasn't flashy. No lightning. No explosions.
But it worked.
"Probability manipulation," he murmured. "That's what this is, isn't it?"
[Partially correct.]
He frowned. Explain.
[You alter the likelihood of outcomes and the arrangement of existing matter within a limited radius.][Your intent guides the result.]
"So I can't just imagine a billion dollars."
[Correct.]
"But I could… find a wallet on the ground."
[Yes.]
Noah exhaled slowly, equal parts relieved and frustrated.
"Okay. Let's try something harder."
He placed three empty cans on a broken wall and stepped back.
Knock the middle one over. Don't touch the others.
He flicked a pebble.
The pebble curved just enough to clip the middle can. It fell. The others stayed upright.
Noah laughed under his breath.
"Holy crap…"
His confidence grew with every small success, but so did his caution.
He tried lifting a can without touching it.
Nothing.
He tried forcing it harder.
His head throbbed and he staggered back, dizzy.
[Warning: Overextension.]
"Yeah… okay… got it," he muttered, rubbing his temples.
He wasn't a god.
Not even close.
He was a guy with a very dangerous nudge button.
After an hour, he was sweating, tired, and weirdly happy.
He sat on a broken crate, breathing hard.
"…I can work with this."
A faint sound of wings passed overhead.
Noah froze.
He slowly looked up.
A dark shape crossed the clouds and vanished between buildings.
"…Batman."
His stomach flipped.
So he is looking for me.
Noah stood, brushed the dirt off his jacket, and headed back toward the city.
He had a number in his pocket.A power in his hand.And a future that suddenly felt very real.
And somewhere in Gotham…
A certain Dark Knight was connecting the dots.
---
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