His last class was with Melanie, which basically resulted in awkward stares and her trying to apologize. Jackson distinctly remembered one moment where he caught her glancing at him while they were doing some writing assignment, her mouth downturned and her brow furled. In fact, Melanie had been unusually quiet today, opting not to chat with her friends. Jackson wasn’t making an effort exactly to figure this out, it was hard to not pay close attention when you sit directly across from someone. Hard not to interact, but if there was one thing Jackson prided himself in, it was avoiding conflict. Of course, he assumed that would get much harder to do in the coming months. Just finish the year, he told himself, that’s all you have to do. When the bell rang, Jackson knew where to head.

The alley behind the gym was the byproduct of placing a high school on the edge of a metropolitan area. On one side, Takeshi High, on the other, various highrises. Jackson could have sworn he had seen someone climb the cast iron fire escapes and slip through a window one day while heading home, but he had only caught glimpses. You don’t stop and gawk in Vera City, leave that for the tourists and idiots.

Ivory was already in the alley when Jackson approached; she had traded her jacket for a larger raincoat, suitable for the January weather. Crossing her arms, she watched Jackson near, analyzing his movements in a way not exactly clinical, but instead curious. “Got your note,” Jackson said, leaning against the brick school wall. Ivory unfolded her arms and grabbed the glass pen from her pocket.

“Do you know how dangerous this is? You could have destroyed the entire school!” she yelled, thrusting the pen into his face. “No, never mind, I know you wouldn’t have known about the pen, but…”

Ivory hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. Jackson tried to help, suggesting “I should have known better then use some strange looking object in Vera City? Yeah, I realized that just a moment too late. I really am sorry, for using your crazy fire pen. I don’t know what the point of a pen that sets paper ablaze is though.”

“It’s not supposed to. You weren’t using it right. It only works on a special kind of paper.” Ivory explained, pocketing the pen again.

“But then why bring it to…” Jackson started but trailed off. “Never mind. I hope you didn’t just come here to chastise me?”

Ivory’s eyes brightened at Jackson’s remark, and she took a step closer. “I overheard your conversation with Gonners. You can slow down time, right? You go to a clockwork shop?” She asked him.

“Uh, yep,” Jackson answered, suddenly uncomfortable.

“Then you must have spent a lot of time with clockwork, right?” She continued, “All that time surrounded by gears, you gotta know a thing or two.”

Jackson stayed silent. His face contorted with shock and disappointment, his lie lasting not even the whole day. Ivory did not let up. “Thought so. So the question is, what are you hiding? I know you have some sort of time-related power, but why hide it? Could your real power be even better? So good, that you hide it from everyone?”

While Ivory was hitting far more of the truth than Jackson was comfortable with, he still managed to muster a hearty laugh. His usual nonconfrontational demeanor obviously wasn’t working, so he attempted to put on a more confident one like he used with Jennifer and Lillian. “Or maybe my power is too dangerous,” He said, “Or maybe I just want to be left alone. Why do you even care anyway? You get your thrills outing others’ secrets, like Melanie?”

Ivory stumbled backward a few steps, but then her eyes narrowed, and she stepped towards him again. Jabbing a finger at his chest, she shouted “A tough guy facade can’t fool me. I’m not going to tell anyone. I wanted to ask to team up with you. I could use someone with your abilities. Your secret’s already out, why not make the most of it, training to be a hero?”

It was at that moment that the pieces fell into place. Ivory was just another student with delusions of grandeur. Jackson turned around and started walking away. He dropped all his disguises, both his demure and his brazen. He spoke to her as Jackson Riel, the boy who enters the library of powers every single night. “Alright, whatever. I’ll drop the act. But if you wanted a hero partner, maybe don’t start by calling them a liar. Have you ever thought,” Jackson said while turning his head to look into her eyes, “That maybe some people don’t want to be heroes?”

Later that day, while in his 5th period, Jackson made a mistake. As if there wasn’t already enough eyes on him, as his Physics teacher Mr.Merril was describing a paper he wanted by Monday, Jackson realized he had lost his last pen. He knew this day would come eventually, he had been slowly losing pens since the beginning of the year, his 12-pack bought at Staples eventually becoming a singular pen, and now none at all. He couldn’t for the life of him remember where he left it. Was it in English? Either way, he had a distinct lack of writing instruments.

It was then, digging around in his pockets, that his hand fell upon the pen he had found in the main office after his encounter with Principal Gonners. He debated whether to use it for a moment. For one, it wasn’t his, and it was such a nice pen, he was afraid he might break it. But then again, he had no idea whose it was, and pens were meant to write. He took it from his pocket, trying to figure out how it opened. Twisting it, a needle coated in ink appeared from the tip. As pens normally do. Then he started writing his notes on the paper, as pens normally do. Then his paper caught on fire, as pens normally do.

It was not the moment he saw the fire that Jackson slipped into the library. No, at that moment Jackson was still in shock, unable to determine a course of action. It was when someone started screaming that he decided slowing things down might help. Phasing halfway into the library, Jackson considered the situation. The paper was on fire. Not a big fire, just a few small flames, dancing around his written word like moths to a… well, you get the point. Jackson did not want the fire to spread, or the fire alarm to go off. If he ended up in Gonners office again today, the man just might murder him. So Jackson quickly took off his coat and smothered the flame. He then threw away the still smoldering paper, grabbed a new sheet, and stole one of Mr. Merrils normal pens, which he kept behind his desk. Returning to his seat, he set time back to normal.

The entire class was staring at him, but at least the screaming stopped. Mr.Merril, a young man with large round glasses and an overeager demeanor not broken yet by the public school system, stood dumbfounded. “Ja- Jackson.” He stammered, “What was that?”

Not wanting to reveal the strange fire starting pen in his pocket, Jackson dug down into yet another hole of lies. “A magic trick,” He said with an uneasy smirk.

“Well, please practice outside of class. I realize you finally revealed your powers, but you don’t have to flaunt them.” Mr.Merril warned, and went back to teaching. Great, Jackson thought, now not only has the story spread to the entire school, but they think I want to show my powers off. All he wanted was to be ignored, and luckily, eyes slowly drifted away from Jackson. Five minutes later, the students were focused back on the lesson (or more accurately, their phones). All except one, from one of the back rows, her eyes remaining trained on Jackson. By the time he noticed her, he knew why.

It was the girl from the main office. It must have been her pen left there. He mouthed sorry to her and took the pen out of his pocket once again, this time setting it on his desk near the edge, looking away. After a few minutes, she stood up and walked over to the door, grabbing a tissue from the top of a file cabinet and blowing her nose. On her way back, passing by my desk, she covertly grabbed the pen and left a note.

Jackson knew her vaguely. She had been in a class of his freshman year, health he thought. Her name was Ivory. Apart from that, he knew nothing of her, not even which circles she hung out in. From how quiet she had been in Mr.Merril’s so far it probably wasn’t any group in here. Everything about Ivory was short, but not small. She was a good foot shorter than him, and Jackson was not a very tall man. She had hair even shorter then his, cut in a fashion that he couldn’t tell if it was stylish or deliberately not so. She wore a grey shirt and green jacket, a singular patch applied to the breast pocket. The Calypsos, a Vera City superhero team from the 90s. Local heroes of a sort, but embroiled in so much controversy it eventually drowned them. Her jeans looked well worn, and her shoes had seen their fair share of dirt, a strange amount actually. What was she doing wearing white shoes in some sort of dirty environment? Jackson wondered what her deal was, so to speak. Why did she have such a strange pen? It was then that he remembered the note she left for him. Uneventfully, he opened it.

“I know you’re lying. Meet me after school behind the gym. Come alone. -Ivory Coldstone” it read. Internet companies should hire high schoolers as telephone poles, Jackson thought, because information in this school travels faster than electricity. Jackson considered ignoring the note, but his curiosity got the better of him. How much did this Ivory Coldstone know? And how did she know it? As the bell rung to sixth period, Jackson had some million more questions, but they honestly seemed trivial now. Well, nothing he could do, so why not see what Ivory had to say.

Sitting in the principal’s office, Jackson watched the clock slowly tick. It was an old clock, round with big brass numbers and a pendulum jutting out of the bottom, rhythmically swinging. Jackson wondered if it had once been a grandfather clock, its wooden casing ripped out to be “modernized”. This was Jackson’s first time in the office, and he already hated the clock. How could anyone stand it? It must be an heirloom, albeit one massively mistreated.

The principal was starting at Jackson, with a look of both disappointment and curiosity. He had thin black hair, slicked back revealing a receding hairline. His eyes were dark and baggy, much like his suit. Those eyes had a twinkle in them, both threatening and jolly. Jackson continued to watch the clock move, avoiding Principal Gonner’s glare.

“So… Jackson. Have anything you’d like to tell me?” Principal Gonners asked, his hands entwined upon the polished desk. Gonners was not a man who intimidated, he had come to terms with that years ago. With his short stature and sickly frame, he relied instead on being crafty when dealing with students. Respect is an important thing for a principal to have, yet Gonners did just fine without it.

Jackson didn’t answer, so Principal Gonners continued. “We’ve heard a nasty rumor going around the school that you have powers, Jackson. While I’m sure this is all a huge misunderstanding, know that if it is not, you’re not in trouble.” This piqued Jackson’s interests, raising an eyebrow. The facial tick did not go unnoticed by Gonners. “Oh, I see,” He muttered.

“If I’m not in trouble, why am I here?” Jackson said, his eyes finally coming to meet Gonners. It was intense, so much so that his eyes quickly darted back to the clock. Jackson knew why he was here, he just didn’t want the principal knowing he knew. Better to make it seem like he simply didn’t know the rules then that he was actively breaking them.

Gonners opened a cabinet under his desk and pulled out a lengthy contract of some kind, already attached to a clipboard and pen. He handed it to Jackson. “All students with powers in the Vera City School District have to be registered as such.” He paused for a moment, “With or without a secret identity. Don’t worry, I couldn’t reveal it if I wanted to. Please, sign below.”

Jackson hesitated, weighing his options. Sign the paper and keep playing along with this charade, or refuse and see what happened. He decided to sign the paper, as at least he could manage that situation. Besides, even if it took some lying, maybe the school had resources for students with powers he could use. Gonners smiled, more of a toothy grin than anything genuine. He took the clipboard from Jackson. “Great!” He exclaimed, “Just a few questions before we’re done here. What exactly is your power Jackson?”

Shit. Jackson had been hoping that would be later. He had to think of a cover story, and quick. Gonners couldn’t learn about his connection to the library. Masking his apprehension as being uncomfortable with eye contact, he once again looked at the clock on the wall. And that clock just so happened to be his lucky break. Melanie had only seen him doing a soft transition out of the library, right? So from her perspective, he could have just been pretending to sleep and slowed down time to grab the falling books. “Time manipulation,” Jackson answered, trying to act confident in his abilities. Gonners made an almost purring like noise, low and guttural.

“Impressive. Can you just slow down, or completely stop?” He followed up. This one Jackson had an immediate answer for.

“Slow down, but sometimes I can to the point where the distinction doesn’t matter.”

“And do you age while in this state?”

“No,” Jackson answered, a little too quick and a little too confident. Gonners leaned over his desk, with a triumphant look on his face.

“And how would you know that, Jackson?”

Jackson hesitated. He couldn’t tell Gonners he’d been living in slow motion for longer then he’d been alive, or it would bring up the question of why he would do that to himself. Jackson chose his words carefully. “I once spent a day in slow-mo, to test my endurance. I normally shave every day, but I didn’t have to once I had re-entered reality.”

Gonners looked downtrodden for a moment, then though over Jackson’s words. “Reality? Are you saying you have not a Mind Palace, but a Planar power?” Jackson winced visibly at the principal’s words, but Gonners finally decided to stay stoic, not revealing that he noticed. By now Jackson knew for certain. Gonners didn’t believe him, he needed to make his cover story a little more sound.

Once again, Jackson’s savior came in the form of the dumb old clock. “Yes, Mr.Gonners. I shift into a plane which is a watchmakers shop. There’s not much there, and once I’m fully shifted, I can’t interact with the world around me. While I may be able to stop time, I can’t do anything in that state.”

This visibly ruined Gonners’ day, but he held through. Turns out this kid really is just timid, Gonners thought. Who, then, has the link to the library? “Interesting. Alright, I think I have enough information to complete this form, but there is one wrench in the works. After school Tuesdays and Thursdays, you’re going to the superpower class. It’s mandatory for powers that could be dangerous.”

“What? If my power goes out of control, I’m the only one who suffers!”

“And that’s not enough reason for you to take the course? It doesn’t matter anyway because that’s not why you’re taking it. It’s that you could be a danger to others. Time-related powers especially. You’ve heard of the timeout killer, right? You have to learn responsibility, and be watched to make sure you are fit to wield your powers.”

“Mr.Gonners, this isn’t necessary, I would never do something like that.”

“Doesn’t matter. School code. Have a good day Jackson, don’t end up in my office again. Superpower class starts tomorrow in room 103.” Mr. Gonners said as he pointed to the door behind Jackson. After a moment of staring in disbelief, Jackson grabbed his backpack and pushed his chair back, leaving the room and that awful clock in disgust.

As he exited, Jackson noticed a student running out of the office. She had short brown hair, which ruffled against her coat as she attempted to leave in a rush. Once she had left, Jackson glanced around the front office to see if someone else might know what would cause a hurry. It turned out Jackson was alone, a note on the secretary’s desk reading “out to lunch”. During his cursory glance, Jackson also noticed a red pen on one of the waiting chairs outside principal Gonner’s office. Leaning down to pick it up, Jackson examined it further. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before. The pen was a translucent crimson, made completely of glass. The glass seemed to twist around itself, making a knotted pattern, not unlike those he had seen on decorative pillars. Despite its elegant nature the pen seemed to be ballpoint, although Jackson couldn’t figure out how to change the ink inside.

Mr.Gonners peaked his head through the door, noticing that Jackson was still there. “What are you doing, get to class!” He yelled.

Jackson didn’t need to be told twice.

It was lunchtime and Jackson was wallowing in both self-pity and a dry bagel. As he ate his meager lunch, he wondered why he had never thought that a test, no, an entire book assignment Jackson had never heard of could simply be a misunderstanding. He’d had plenty of time to think it over, he was in that damn library for over 2 hours and never once questioned it. But then again, Jackson wondered, would he had done anything differently knowing there was a chance the test wasn’t real? But then again, he would have done something differently knowing there was a chance he would be caught exiting the library. Jackson glanced around from his empty lunch table, looking for Melanie. He didn’t find her, but he did notice an entire lunch table looking directly at him. 7 seniors, mostly girls but a few guys, had suddenly taken an interest in what Jackson was up to. He made eye contact with two of them and cocked an eyebrow. The two girls glanced at each other, as unsure as he was. One of them stood up, moving towards Jackson, and the other followed. They were Jennifer and Lillian, two friends of Melanie. Jackson smelled something afoot, and he dreaded the answer to his mystery.

Damnit, Melanie, you told me my secret was safe with you.

Jennifer and Lillian were wearing matching pink tank tops, but Lillian had a thick fur coat over hers. Jennifer twirled her brown curly hair idly, and the two of them had a look of begrudging curiosity. “So…” Lillian started. “We might have heard a rumor…” Lillian danced around the topic like a ballerina, which was ironic because she was a ballerina. “Someone told us you…”

“So do you really have powers?” Jennifer said bluntly, cutting to the topic like a lumberjack felling a tree. Which was ironic, because Jennifer had probably never even seen an axe before. Not that Jackson had either, but the point still stands. Jackson stammered, thinking of a response when Lillian finally worked up the courage to make a comment. “Don’t even think about using whatever weird powers you have to perve into the women’s locker rooms after school.” She said, taking the conversation in a completely different and frankly insulting direction.

“Woah, my powers don’t even work that way,” Jackson responded, putting up his hands and growing a scowl. This was another of the things Jackson just assumed didn’t work, and had no intention to find out. Okay, maybe the idea had entered his mind once or twice, but he’d never put any real thought into it.

“So you dooo have a superpower then!” Jennifer exclaimed, jumping and pointing a finger at him. Rude. Jennifer raised a hand for Lillian to high five, and they did, sort of. It was the kind of clumsy high five that only comes from someone trying so hard to be cool they somehow do something so ridiculous it boggles the mind. But, taking it in stride, Lillian asked Jackson, “So, like, can you show us your powers?”

Jackson had had enough of this by that point. His scowl evaporating, he stood up, grabbed his lunch, and said: “Sure, I’ll be in the women’s locker room after school.” Jackson had hoped to leave the pair in stunned silence, but as he walked away he heard a few scoffs and the sound of feet scuffing the floor as they returned to their original table. As he cursed Melanie, Ms.Salmon, and the entire Vera City School District, Jackson headed to find somewhere else to finish his lunch. It might have been just a bagel, but damn it, that bagel was the only good thing to happen to Jackson all day. “You’ll be ok” my ass, Jackson thought as he passed the main office. Glancing at the open door, Jackson once again made the mistake of prolonged eye contact with a very specific person.

“Jackson Reil, my office, now.”

He appeared in a green room, on brown shag carpeting. After picking himself up, Jackson finally calmed down. Now that he was in the Library, he had plenty of time. Jackson tried to figure out where he was, ultimately deciding it was a wing of the Library he had either never been to or hadn’t been to in a long time. The room had an overwhelming 70s vibe. Peeling mint wallpaper, egg chairs, and a wood-paneled record player gave Jackson the sense that this was retro, but maybe not authentic. It almost seemed too much, he could swear he had glanced a dreamcatcher in the window to his left. It was a shame that Jackson couldn’t control where he appeared in the Library. He thought he knew his way around a large portion of the Library of powers, while he secretly feared he had only scratched the surface. If only he had a better view of his surroundings…

Jackson turned his head around and found the window he had spied earlier. The Library was filled with windows, yet none of them showed the outside of the Library. Despite this, Jackson held the hope that one of them someday would, so he rushed over, to maybe catch a glimpse of the Library’s true location. Pulling the accordion shades, Jackson was instantly disappointed when he learned the window only looked over down on another section of the Library. It was a wing Jackson knew of, old and musty with an exposed timber roof. No wonder he hadn’t spotted the window from below, that area was so dimly lit it would be almost impossible to spot. Jackson walked away from the window, deciding to start his search for the book. The Library had very little organization, due to the conflicting themes and labyrinthine halls, but Jackson knew there was an area that held only books pertaining to the ocean, and Jackson felt that would be a good place to start. Quickly finding the exit door, Jackson left the disco nightmare and stepping into a simple walkway with a crisp breeze billowing through it. Stopping to close the door behind him, Jackson read the sign on the door. “Bernard Harbour Public Library.” The plaque stated. Now that was interesting. Jackson had been to Bernard Harbour before, a small ocean town off Highway 305, an hour or two from Vera City. He’d never been to their Library. But, assuming that this section of the Library was a copy of the one in Bernard Harbour, it probably ran on the Dewey Decimal System. Which meant it had cards somewhere, corresponding to every book in the Library. So Jackson could check and see if they had the Old Man and the Sea, skipping the digging he was prepared to go through. Making up his mind, Jackson re-entered Bernard Harbour Public Library, closing the door behind him. He had a test to prepare for.

Two hours and one surprisingly short book later, Jackson was ready to return to the real library. Before he did, however, Jackson decided to take a closer look at this supposed building recreation he was in. The Library of Powers had plenty of styles to choose from, from ancient times to what looked suspiciously like the future, but never had Jackson been in a section of the Library modeled after a real place. He had been in sections of the Library designed to look like second-hand bookstores or college reading rooms, but those didn’t seem to have any earthly counterpart. Jackson walked past Formica desks and single pane glass windows (which he opened to see what was behind them). Jackson was just about to satisfy his curiosity when he can upon a large wooden door. The door had no markings, a silver handle, and looked thoroughly unimportant. When Jackson tried to open it, however, he found it was locked.

Wait, locked?

There were no locked doors in The Library of Powers. Everyone, not just Jackson, knew this. It would defeat the purpose of the Library if you woke up in a small room with no way of getting out. Jackson looked for a keyhole but found none. After wiggling the handle a bit more, then knocking on it a few times, Jackson gave up on trying to get through. It wasn’t like he was going to break down the door, even if he could. Jackson needed to do one last thing before he was sure he wouldn’t be getting through the door. Lying on the floor, Jackson tried to peer between the carpet and the door, to see what was past the door.

Unfortunately, Jackson couldn’t see anything; the room must be dark. Giving up, Jackson exited the Library — The Library of Powers, not Bernard Harbour Public Library — in a huff. Fighting through the cold molasses of his exit, Jackson opened his eyes to find a series of books falling onto him. As he had not finished exiting the Library, the books were barely moving, falling slower than a feather. Partially re-entering just a bit more to slow the books down to a complete stop, Jackson instinctively grabbed each book and placed it on the desk he had until now been sleeping on, in a neat stack. Only after he had finished did he notice the girl who had dropped the books. It was Melanie Collins, a classmate of Jackson’s and daughter of Suzanne and Bill Collins. The Collins were a nuclear family of supervillain ass-kicking, every single member having some crazy good superpower, and all of them professional superheroes. Everyone knew where the Collins lived, and yet no villains ever tried to get to them through their family. The Collins essentially had no secret identity, and they didn’t need one. Melanie, their youngest child, went to Takeshi High simply because there were no private high schools in Vera City. If there were, Melanie would assuredly be going to whichever was the most prestigious. Her family wasn’t Jackson’s problem though, it was Melanie’s personality that was.

Three years of classes with someone teaches you a lot about them if you’re willing to observe from a distance. Jackson didn’t think he was a creep, but the few students with powers they didn’t hide fascinated Jackson. There was Selina, a teleporter who Jackson rarely saw because she just teleported from class to class. Connor, son of a career superhero (although he wouldn’t say who), with his blindingly yellow eyes that did… something. And Melanie. Melanie had the power to perfectly assess any situation, in a Mind Palace that she said: “looked like the war-room from Dr.Strangelove”. If only she ever used it. Melanie may know what to do in any situation, but it doesn’t mean she does what her power tells her to. She was well known around the school for partying hard and making less than admiral decisions. Jackson wasn’t sure of what her parents thought of Melanie’s actions, it definitely didn’t look well upon the Collins name. Melanie could almost always be found chatting with her friends in the lunchroom, about some form of gossip or another. Being incredibly perceptive gave Melanie great gossiping skills. Jackson just didn’t know how she would use her power now.

Jackson fully exited the Library, deciding to no longer delay the inevitable. Melanie, suddenly learning her falling books were no longer falling, looked to Jackson, then to the books, then back to Jackson. He could almost swear he saw the gears turning in her head, using her mind palace powers. Jackson stood there, not wanting to leave before he knew how she would handle this. And in a complete turn of events, what Melanie told Jackson was, in a cool, monotone voice that he had never heard intoned behind her lips before, “Thank you for helping me out there. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” While it should have been her, it was Jackson who did a double take.

He fumbled a quick “Thanks” and ran off, out of Takeshi High Public Library and into Ms.Salmon’s English class right as the bell rang. Falling into his seat, Ms.Salmon got up from her desk in the back, glided up to the front whiteboard, and erased the notice of the test they were about to take. “Sorry, that’s for my Juniors” she apologized, starting to write something new. “So today, we are going to—“

He arrived at school with time to spare, so Jackson walked aimlessly around the school, unsure of what to do. His first period had a sub today, and they hadn’t arrived to open the classroom yet. He already knew that someone would say “If they don’t arrive in 10 minutes, legally we can leave”. Jackson knew this was bullshit, he had read the Vera City School district rulebook after stumbling upon it while in the library. If they didn’t want to go to school so much, then just don’t go. Well, if that person even existed, this was all still hypothetical. Jackson idly stopped in the middle of a hallway, wondering if he should practice getting as close to entering the library as possible while not putting his metaphorical “foot in the door”. For all intents and purposes, it would seem as if he had slowed down time, even made it stop. He’d done this plenty of times before but wasn’t sure enough in his abilities to think he could do it at school without being caught. Which would be the worst case scenario, because no one in the school could know he had powers.

Keeping his powers secret was a simple, but difficult decision for Jackson to make. Everyone knew about the Library. The Library of Powers, the place where superheroes were created. It was the same reason that he hid from others while in the Library. If people knew Jackson could enter it, everyone would want to get in. Jackson didn’t want that kind of attention, besides, he didn’t think he could bring others into the Library. He’d never tried, but he didn’t really want to find out.

Jackson didn’t make friends for the same reason. If someone was too close to him, they’d eventually find out. Sure, it was selfish, but Jackson didn’t mind. He knew he would be able to help more people backstage, not in the limelight. There he was, standing in the middle of Takeshi High looking like an idiot. Collecting his thoughts, Jackson meandered a bit more until the bell rang, and headed to class.

Jackson’s first class was Extraordinary Peoples History, a garbage fire of a class that taught not a single student anything, only offered because it was required by the state. With more than 30 years in an environment dedicated to learning, all classes felt like a garbage fire to Jackson. But this one, this one was especially bad. He had to go anyways, both to further his goals and appease his parents. It wasn’t like it was a huge time commitment when he could literally stretch minutes into hours.

Jackson pondered that for a moment. He had never really put much thought into the time altering powers of the Library. To give its inhabitants (who were always 15, no exceptions) enough time to find a book and learn how to use its power. He didn’t think anyone had not found a book in the allotted amount of time, the one night spent in the library felt like a week to its inhabitants. Good thing there was no aging in the Library, or Jackson would probably be dead. Jackson’s mind continued to wander until he heard the dreaded phrase. “Jackson, could you please answer the next question from the reading?”

Jackson floundered as his teacher, the middle-aged Ms. Doil, cooly watched him drown. Jackson had done the reading, it was simple enough. He just hated the attention. Recollecting himself, he answered, “which question are we on?”

“Number 3,” Ms.Doil said, her voice dripping with apathy. “What are the three major classifications of Powered Humans?”

Powered Humans, Supers, Enhanced Humans, the naming scheme for those with a gift were eclectic on a good day. Jackson ruffled at the question asked of him because it was so simple it’s only possible purpose would be as TV exposition using the worst trope possible. Jackson tried to keep the sarcasm out of his tone, only succeeding in saying through gritted teeth, “Why, the text informed us that the three classifications are Planar, Domain, and Mind Palace.”

Ms. Doil walked over to the whiteboard and wrote down the titles I had just given her. After poking and prodding other unresponsive high schoolers, she eventually compiled a list of what each meant and why it was important. And despite all the curses Jackson had muttered under his breath about the class, he had to admit it was a pretty good summary.

The first type of power is Planar, the most common and most versatile. Planar powers draw their abilities from some other plane of existence, which they almost always can travel to and from. The example given was someone who could teleport, their plane they travel to a hallway filled with every door they had ever been through. Jackson was fairly certain he was a Planar, because of how he could enter and exit the library at will.

The second type of power is Domain. Domain powers were similar to Planar in that they were tied to a place, but these places were physical locations in the real world. From as large as a forest to as small as a car’s engine, Domain powers almost always drew power in some way from their domain, using it in other, more useful ways. Everyone’s favorite example power, flight, was almost exclusively a domain power. Jackson wondered what the domain of the girl he had witnessed receive her powers was. From the look of the book, it was probably something wind related, maybe a windmill or cloud.

The last type of power is Mind Palace. Despite the annoyingly amateurish name, Mind Palace fit the specification incredibly well. Those with a Mind Palace power could enter their own head, similar to a Planar but with more control over their surroundings. The stereotype was that all Mind Palace powers were about being smart or fast, but some of the most famous heroes were Mind Palace powereds who gained some form of Super fitness out of it. Despite changing attitudes, most still wanted their saviors strong and handsome. Jackson knew there were one or two Mind Palace heroes at Takeshi High, children of Vera City Superheroes.

Soon enough, class ended, and Jackson headed towards his second period. And then his third. And then his fourth, his last class before lunch. As he passed the sign on the door, which read “English”, Jackson gave a sigh of relief. English was a breeze for Jackson, for obvious reasons. He entered the corner room prepared and bored, which for a public high school in Vera City is a rare treat. Jackson sat at his desk and looked towards the board, only to notice something terrifying. In big black marker, his teacher had written “Test today: The Old Man and the Sea. 20% of grade” with a red circle around twenty percent.

Jackson leapt from his chair, which drew stares from a few entering students. A test? Jackson didn’t remember even being assigned to read The Old Man and the Sea, let alone there being a test on it. He weighed his options. No way did he want to fail this test, but he hadn’t read the book. He could probably just wing it and do fine, but why fake it when he could actually go and read the book? Jackson knew he couldn’t enter the library here. To the other students, it would look as if he had fallen asleep then abruptly woken up a moment or two later. Jackson needed another place, free from prying eyes. The bathroom could work, even if it’s not the most graceful of options. He glanced at the clock. Jackson had 2 minutes until passing period ended and class started. His English teacher, Ms. Salmon, was a stickler for attendance and maybe wouldn’t even let him in if he came in late. Jackson cursed himself for never reading the Old Man and the Sea. Jackson had read virtually all the classics, how did he miss that one? Finally figuring out where to enter the library, Jackson dashed out of the room and straight into the next door over, Takeshi High Public Library. Only fitting he enter his library in a real one.

Pushing past the heavy entrance doors and wading through the metal racks of mistreated hardbacks, Jackson found a quiet study area and sat down. First checking to see if anyone was around, Jackson put his head down, feigned sleep, and entered the library. Entering the library was a completely different experience from leaving it. Jackson had much more control on entering, and he was confident he could, away from prying eyes, only enter partway. Jackson visualized the purely mental procedure as a sliding scale, where 100% reality would be normal time, and 0% is when he enters the library. Jackson wanted it at a measly 1%. In that state, Jackson’s time would slow to a crawl, but he would still be on planet earth. Instead of doing this, Jackson dashed to 0%, rapidly entering the Library.

Exiting the Library was a strange feeling, one that Jackson could never quite describe. He felt as if he was jumping out of a pool filled with syrup, but the syrup never quite touched him. As he “woke up”, Jackson still felt like syrup, but for a completely different reason. He was tired. As he tried to shake off his morning sickness, he walked out of his room, down the hall, and into the bathroom. After flipping on the lights and wincing at the suddenly bright noise, his eyes adjusted and he started his morning routine.

Brush teeth. Take a shower. Dry his thick mane of brown hair that ran almost to his shoulders. Stare in the mirror for a minute. Maybe two. Staring into his own green eyes, Jackson recollected himself and left the bathroom. He skipped breakfast, knowing all too well he didn’t have the time for it. Grabbing the backpack he set in front of the door the day before, he set off for school.

Takeshi High was a two-mile walk from Jackson’s house, through fringe-suburbs bordering downtown Vera City. Jackson passed a bus stop, students milling around the sign waiting for a bus. He opted not to take public transportation, needing the exercise and wanting to avoid other students. The first half of his walk was quiet. He passed townhouses and small apartment complexes, bakeries, and banks. Normal town stuff. When he came to a T intersection, both ways heading away from the school, he went West, further into the city. It was the slower of the two routes. Jackson’s pace sped up slightly, to match the others who had joined him on the sidewalk, commuting to their job in one of the towering grey monoliths above them. Jackson put in his earbuds, off until this portion of his trip, and put on a song he wasn’t quite sure if he enjoyed. Two blocks in, and decidedly not in the direction of the school, Jackson entered an area of town not dominated by professionals, but tourists. Glitzy restraints and novelty shops were just now opening up, and already families with cameras were looking at their phones, trying to figure out where the next landmark was. Jackson even noticed one family in matching Hawaiian shirts, which amused him in his thick brown jacket. That family was looking at a paper map they had somehow acquired, visibly distressed and turning around like a broken carousel.

Jackson considered going over to help them, but before he could, he heard a disruption in the air above him. A man, flying 15 feet off the ground, zoomed over Jackson, landing near the family and striking a pose. The gesture might have seemed cocky, but the family ate it up, asking for a photo as he helped them locate their destination. As he turned around to leave, Jackson got a good look at his face. It was American Dream, a blond hair blue eyes square jaw hero in tight blue spandex showing off everything. His outfit was chintzy and his shtick tasteless, but it was retro and somehow back in fashion. From what Jackson had heard anyways, American Dream tried to seem like a B-lister photo-op type to make villains underestimate him. And from the grin on his face, it either worked or he was a very good actor.

He flew off, and Jackson continued his trek. It was another 4 blocks before he reached his first destination, the Vera City Central Library. He wasn’t there for the Library itself, God knows he’s been in a library enough. Jackson estimated he’d been in The Library of Powers longer then most people live. He was headed towards a large water feature in front of the central branch. A few tourists milled around the fountain, even some Vera City citizens watching the streams of water. Jackson headed for an empty spot on the Southern side of the pool and looked into the waters.

The fountain was octagonal, about 30 feet long on either side. The waters inside the fountain were completely still, despite pumps shooting the water through tubes into crazy arcs of varying directions. It was almost as if the fountain was frozen in time, much like his library. Jackson, like many others near him, stared into the water, and then placed a singular hand inside. The pool was not deep, a foot at the most. When Jackson’s hand touched the pool’s bottom, black tendrils appeared in the water, dancing around his fingertips. As he removed his hand, ink had been stained into words on his Palm, which read “You’ll be fine. No matter how bad it seems, you’ll be fine.”

The Writing Well did many things, but researchers could only confirm one. It gave advice. You couldn’t direct what you wanted advice on, and it wasn’t always good advice. But the Writing Well had never caused pain or misery in someone, except by not answering a question they desperately needed. It simply helped. Which is why Jackson was very afraid of the response he had got from the well. Being fine was arbitrary. The fountain never said when he’d be fine it could be a week or 19 years from now. “How bad it seems” could mean that his problem wasn’t bad at all, or maybe it meant that it is bad but would be narrowly avoided. All in all, the writing well had caused misery and pain for Jackson, by giving him too much to consider. So Jackson walked off flustered, sticking his still wet hand in his coat pocket to warm up. This time, Jackson headed towards Takeshi High.