Chapter 7: Race Against Time
The city streets, under the pallid light of the streetlamps, were a blur of motion. Adam and Five, breathing heavily, ran down an empty alley, the adrenaline of the escape still thrumming in their veins. The Commission's temporal shields were a constant, nagging pressure on Adam's mind, a subtle hum of a foreign technology.
"Can you summon anything that isn't so... noticeable?" Five asked, his voice a low growl of annoyance. "We're drawing attention."
Adam, panting, shook his head. "It's the best I've got! We're not exactly in a forest!"
The message was a sudden, unexpected boost of energy in his legs. His steps felt lighter, his breath came easier. It was a bizarre, yet welcome, side effect of his power.
"They're gaining on us," Five said, glancing back at the end of the alley. A black car, its headlights cutting through the darkness, was coming toward them at a frightening speed.
Adam, in a moment of creative panic, focused his mental energy. He pictured a flock of pigeons, but not just any pigeons. Mimic Pigeons. He didn't know if the system could even do that, but he had to try. He closed his eyes, picturing a flock of the most obnoxious, irritating creatures he could imagine.
With a flurry of feathers and a loud squawk, a flock of pigeons materialized in the alley, not on the ground, but in the air, right above the oncoming car. They descended in a chaotic, avian swarm, pelting the car with their tiny bodies.
Hazel and Cha-Cha, in the black car, were suddenly enveloped in a cloud of feathers and angry bird sounds. "Why are these birds singing 'Never Gonna Give You Up'?" Hazel yelled, his voice a confused roar.
Cha-Cha, her face a mask of furious frustration, screamed back. "I don't know! Just hit them!"
The pigeons, however, were not just singing. They were a bizarre, pop-culture-infused weapon. They were singing "Never Gonna Give You Up," and they were also mimicking the sound of a car crash, a loud, bone-shattering CRUNCH that made Hazel and Cha-Cha flinch.
This is the most insane thing I have ever done. It's also the most effective.
They made a sharp turn into a crowded street, the pigeons still swarming the car behind them. Five, his eyes narrowed, noticed a small, glowing light on the car's dashboard, a faint, pulsing red dot.
"That's not a normal car," Five said, his voice a low, strategic whisper. "It's linked to something. It's how they're tracking us."
Adam, concentrating, activated his system. He placed his hand on the ground, and his system, in a flash of light, scanned the temporal signature of the car. "The system says it's an artifact," Adam said, his eyes wide. "A 'Temporal Leash'."
The message was a chilling, stark reality. They weren't just running from Hazel and Cha-Cha. They were running from a temporal tracking device. They were a tethered dog, and the Commission was holding the leash.
The alley was a dead end. The black car, now covered in pigeon droppings, skidded to a halt in front of them, blocking their escape. Hazel and Cha-Cha got out, their expressions a mix of furious rage and baffled confusion.
"Give it up, kid," Cha-Cha snarled, her weapon now back in her hand. "The game's over."
Adam, in a moment of pure, panicked desperation, closed his eyes. He pictured a creature that could stop a car. A creature that could stop a timeline. A creature that could do something, anything, to buy them some time.
A large, black, hairy spider, no bigger than his hand, appeared on the ground in front of him. It looked harmless, but the system's message was a hint of its power. He directed it with a thought, and the spider, with a speed that defied its size, scurried toward the black car. It scurried up the wheel well and, in a flash of shimmering light, spun a web of sticky, temporal goo, a viscous, shimmering substance that wrapped itself around the car's wheels, its axles, its everything.
The car, with a sickening screech, swerved and crashed into a lamppost, the sound of bending metal and shattering glass a symphony of chaos. Hazel and Cha-Cha, caught off guard, stumbled and fell, their weapons clattering to the ground.
Adam grabbed Five's arm, and they sprinted toward the mansion, the sound of the Commission agents' curses and the blaring of the car's alarm fading behind them. They had made it. They were home.
"Well, that was a creative use of a spider," Adam said, panting, as they collapsed onto the mansion's front lawn.
Five, looking at him with a newfound respect, gave him a small, almost imperceptible smile. "You're full of surprises, kid."
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