For the first time in two years, Jack had a day off.

  Not because he asked for it. Not because he finally saved up enough to take a break.

  No—his workplace was just too destroyed to function.

  The convenience store was officially under repair, which meant he had nowhere to be.

  He woke up with a start and an unfamiliar silence greeted him.

  Jack rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the haze.

  And for a while he sat like that, staring at nothing. His mind—blurry.

  He didn't know what to do with himself.

  No alarm blaring in his ear, no rush to get to work. No shift. No rush. No customers yelling at him.

  It was weird. Very weird.

  So, he did what any sane person with newly discovered reality-warping powers would do.

  He laid back to bed and tried to sleep again.

  Huh. It's so peaceful, warm and ... Zzzzzz...

  Seconds later....

  Jack's eyes cracked open. White.

  That damn void again. He groaned, rubbing his face.

  "Oh, come on." For once—just once—he wanted to sleep in.

  No alarms, no customers, no existential crises.

  Was that too much to ask?

  He sat up and pulled out his hair in frustration.

  The floating words shimmered into existence in front of him.

  What would you like to create?

  Jack glared at them. "A proper day off."

  Nothing happened. He sighed. "Figures."

  His gaze drifted away from the floating words, his mind wandering back to the previous night's events.

  He felt like there is something off.

  Jack can sense a coming headache whenever he tried to think.

  Huh. Dammit. He cursed loudly. His body shifted slightly as he sat up straighter, his eyes flashing with annoyance.

  The damn convenience store, the sad robber, the old man, the ambulance...

  He frowned, trying to pinpoint what felt off while rubbing his temples.

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  And when he tried to slide his glasses up, a habit that he's used to...

  He realized what's really wrong...

  Where are my glasses? He flips his head up and stilled.

  At some point when all those things where happening... he realized his glasses just... gone?

  And his eyes? 20/20 vision? What the hell happened?

  He scrambled to stand up.

  Jack's breath hitched as he ran a hand over his face.

  His skin felt the same—maybe a little smoother?

  But the real kicker was his eyesight. It was sharp. Too sharp.

  He looked down at his hands, stretching his fingers, then held them up to his face.

  Jack could see every damn line, every little scar, every tiny crease in his knuckles.

  He blinked rapidly, looking around, testing his vision. The void was always empty, always white, but now—he could see the depth of it.

  Like his eyes had unlocked some hidden layer of clarity. His stomach twisted.

  He needed to know. He turned to the floating words.

  "Create a full-body mirror."

  The words shimmered. The void rippled. And then— A tall, sleek mirror materialized before him.

  Jack hesitated. A weird sense of anticipation crawled up his spine.

  He had no idea what he expected to see, but something told him this wasn't going to be normal.

  Taking a slow breath, he stepped forward. And there he was.

  Same curly black hair—messy as always. Same face—albeit a little sharper, like he had actually been getting proper sleep (which he hadn't).

  But the biggest change? His body. He wasn't bulky, not by a long shot.

  He examined his body thru his thin gray shirt. But afraid to take off his shirt.

  Jack couldn't shake the feeling that unblinking eyes were trained on him.

  He tried to brush it off as mere imaginations, but the sensation persisted.

  With a subtle flick of his gaze, he scanned his surroundings, searching for any sign of movement or presence—just in case he missed that in all of his visits to the void.

  "Nothing...." He whispered.

  All he can see are the same endless expanse of white, like an ocean of blank paper stretching out in every direction.

  He looked back at the mirror again and shake it off. He started to study himself more.

  His attention now focused on his reflections.

  The wiry frame he'd lived with for years? Gone. His shoulders looked broader.

  His arms—leaner, more defined. His posture had changed too—like he wasn't unconsciously hunching over anymore.

  Jack flexed a hand, watching the muscles shift. "…The hell?"

  This—this was the telltale sign of awakening. He had seen it before.

  People who suddenly had their powers activate would undergo subtle but clear physical improvements. Better eyesight. A stronger physique. Enhanced reflexes.

  Jack reached up, pressing his fingers against his temple. His body had changed.

  So, it was real! His power was real. Or am I still dreaming?

  What if I woke up and none of it all is real? Maybe he is only like this in the void?

  In the dream?

  He stared at his reflections for a bit more, and then...

  How do I wake up in real world again?

  .....

  Jack's eyes snapped open in the real world, and he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him.

  "Ugh..." He groggily tried to stand up, but his legs wouldn't cooperate.

  He stumbled and fell back onto the bed, his limbs still heavy with sleep.

  Shit.

  He tried to rest for a bit, letting his body acclimate to the feeling of being awake.

  He clenched his fist and took slow, deep breaths, trying to shake off the sudden dizziness.

  Jack stayed like that for a while, but his impatience was wearing thin.

  He wanted to see for himself while his memories from the void were still fresh.

  Once he felt stable enough, he slowly got up and made his way to the bathroom again.

  This time, he succeeded, albeit still feeling a bit nauseous.

  As he stepped inside the lit bathroom, the cold floor beneath his feet sent a shiver down his spine, making his skin break out in goosebumps.

  He closed his eyes, a nagging fear creeping in that it was all just a product of his imagination.

  For a moment, he forgot about the impossible things that had happened in the convenience store - the potions, the baseball bat materializing in his hands.

  He is worried that the trauma of the event had been too much, and his mind had conjured up the memories as a coping mechanism.

  Even when his eyes are closed, he knew the bathroom like the back of his hands. Still afraid to open his eyes.

  Jack breathes in and out. He can feel his fingers touched the cold marbled sink.

  "Okay... Whew... Moment of truth!" He whispered.

  He already readied himself to be disappointed.

  He opened his eyes.

  His visions are clear.

  Jack breathed in, took off his shirt, and stared.