Chapter 02

Chapter 02

The Speed Within

Adams didn’t remember running home.

One moment he was on the bridge, trembling and confused; the next he was standing in front of the worn wooden door of the Ibrahim family compound. Sweat dripped from his forehead. His shirt clung to his back. His pulse thundered.

He stared at his own hands, turning them over slowly.
“Did I… run here? But how?”

The door creaked open before he could think further. His little sister, Abena, blinked up at him in confusion.

“Adams? You’re back way too early from work!. It’s just half past noon.”

Adams swallowed hard. Half past noon? He had traveled nearly twelve kilometers. Even on his bike, that should’ve taken at least forty-five.

“Ah… I uh… came back for something,” he lied.

She narrowed her eyes playfully. “You look like you came back from fighting a lion.”

Before he could answer, their mother appeared behind her. “Adams, what’s wrong? You look pale.”

He forced a smile. “Just tired, Ma. Long day.”

But the truth chased him into his room the moment he shut the door.

He paced, breathing fast. Each step seemed to land before he took it, as if the world lagged behind him. The ceiling fan spun slow — painfully slow — even though he could hear it whooshing at full speed.

He waved his hand in front of his face.

He saw the motion in perfect detail, every tiny movement of his fingers cutting through the air.

“Ei, what is happening to me?”

His voice trembled.

He closed his eyes and tried to calm his racing heartbeat — but the moment he inhaled too sharply, the world snapped.

CRACK—WHOOSH!

He disappeared from his bedroom and reappeared outside the compound gate, skidding to a stop.

Adams stumbled backward, gasping.

“Okay… okay, this is not normal,” he said to himself. “I need help.”

And only one person came to mind — Dr. Efua Bannerman, his Level 200 Physics lecturer.

The retired physicist and visiting lecturer lived near the docks. She was known for her strange inventions, her sharp tongue, and her habit of reading scientific journals like they were romance novels. But she also knew more about energy anomalies than anyone else in the city.

Adams steadied his breath.
“I just need to walk there. Slowly.”

He placed one foot forward.

The world blurred — and he shot down the street like a bullet.

He tried again, forcing himself to move inch by inch.

Another blur, another burst of speed.

People on the sidewalk screamed as a gust of wind tore past them. A street vendor’s umbrella flipped inside out. A taxi driver cursed as his newspapers spiraled into the air.

Adams couldn’t control it.

He wasn’t walking.
He wasn’t running.
He was blinking in and out of place.

By the time he reached Dr. Bannerman’s workshop, his chest burned and his legs felt like molten iron. He stumbled to the door and banged twice before collapsing to his knees.

The door flew open.

Dr. Bannerman, in a faded lab coat and goggles perched on her head, stared down at him.

“Adams Ibrahim?” she said, shocked. “What in the name of physics happened to you?”

He looked up, breathing hard.

“I think… I think I’m too fast.”

Her eyes widened.

“Get inside. Now.”