It had been three weeks since the man had stolen the ship from her captors. Alyx had hidden herself in the storage room, confident he hadn't cracked the code to access it. She'd taken every precaution to remove all traces of it from the ship's systems. Not that he seemed interested in unlocking it anyway; his focus was fixated on the ship's map projection, as if it held the answers to questions only he could ask.

Alyx watched him now on the rudimentary camera setup inside her makeshift hideout. The man was maddening to observe. Hours ticked by as he stared at the map, as if hoping it would somehow reveal a hidden path through the vast emptiness surrounding them. They were adrift, lost in the same void where he had taken the ship after leaving the planet Bosnack.

In those early days, Alyx had considered revealing herself. She had thought, even hoped, that he might be her saviour—a rebel from the outer reaches of space, someone sent to rescue her. But those fantasies shattered quickly after witnessing his strange abilities.

The first time she saw him move, it was like magic. One moment, he was in the control room, and the next, he was in the kitchen, vanishing and reappearing in the blink of an eye. It wasn't just speed; it was something far beyond her comprehension. At times, it was as if he were frozen, defying the flow of time itself.

That revelation sent a chill down her spine. He might not have been as cruel as her former captors, but he was no rebel. The crew that had used this ship before him had slaughtered her comrades without hesitation during a simple resource run. They were hunting for rewards from Finisterra, eager to earn a title for destroying a "Marauder" vessel. Alyx was the sole survivor, trapped in a hellish existence as they forced her to maintain the ship—treated like little more than property.

Alyx had no doubt the crew believed she had stolen the ship. After all, they wouldn't have seen the man. They would be out for revenge, but they wouldn't succeed. He had taken the ship to such a remote location that it would be impossible for them to track her. Finisterra wouldn't allow the crew to deviate from their transport duties long enough to chase a single marauder.

Yet now, hidden in the same storage room her captors had tossed her into, Alyx remained trapped. Still a captive, she thought bitterly, except this time, the man didn't even know he had a captive.

In a way, this new man was a mystery—both terrifying and fascinating. His erratic movements, his strange abilities, and the mask covering his eyes at all times made her wary. She had concluded he must be deaf when she saw the sound translation mask. The fact that he hadn't taken it off, even though he was alone, unsettled her. Or maybe he does know about her? Could his powers extend beyond this teleportation? Was he somehow aware of her presence?

Alyx had been careful during her brief excursions. Whenever she left the storage room to gather food, she ensured she took only what was necessary—just enough that he wouldn't notice anything was missing. She timed her trips to the kitchen for when he was absorbed in the map, but knowing he could vanish and reappear at any moment.

Today was one of those days. She watched the camera feed as he reappeared suddenly in the chair in front of the map projection. His body seemed to snap into existence, settling into the seat as if he had always been there.

This is my chance, she thought, slipping out of the storage room. She moved through the ship's hallways quickly, not bothering to muffle her steps. She just needed to be fast.

Alyx reached the kitchen, her hands trembling as she rummaged through the supplies. She grabbed a few rations—enough to last her a few days without raising suspicion. But as she turned to leave, she felt something shift.

Her shadow changed on the wall in front of her, suddenly reflecting figure of the man. Her breath caught in her throat, and slowly, she turned around.

He stood there, terrifyingly close. Silent.

He had come out of nowhere, his presence looming over her as if he had been watching her the entire time. For a moment, Alyx felt frozen in place, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure even he could hear it.

The man seemed just as shaken as she was. Despite not being able to see his eyes past the mask, Alyx could sense both surprise and caution in his posture. They stood frozen in time, caught in an unspoken standoff, before the rhythm of his tapping broke the silence.

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Alyx's heart raced, and just as she thought he might speak, she found her voice first. "I mean you no harm!" she blurted out, urgency lacing her words. "My name's Alyx. I was a captive of the people you stole this ship from. You sort of rescued me." She hoped her words would resonate with any empathy in him.

"So you're a marauder," he stated flatly.

Alyx felt her heart plummet. That word stung like a slap. He wasn't a rebel, then. The last flicker of hope extinguished. Only people caught in Finisterra's propaganda referred to them as marauders. But perhaps there was still a chance. Maybe she could awaken his curiosity about the truth of the rebellion hidden from most of humanity.

"In the eyes of Finisterra, yes," she replied, trying to inject defiance into her tone. "But that's just their narrative. There's so much more at stake than what they want you to believe."

"How have you stayed hidden for so long?" he asked, his tone casual, yet an undercurrent of concern flickered in his voice.

"I've been hiding in the storage room you haven't been able to unlock." She chose her words carefully, knowing that if she didn't tell him, he would fill in the gaps soon enough.

"Right... Forgive me for my bluntness. I haven't been myself for... a while. My name is Marcus. Why have you hidden for so long?" Hearing his name felt grounding, easing her fear a bit. The formality made him feel less intimidating.

"I was going to reveal myself when—"

"You saw it, didn't you?" Marcus interrupted, urgency creeping into his voice. "I promise you, it's nothing to be scared of. I barely understand it myself. Tell me, how long have we been out here?"

"About three weeks." Alyx was surprised by his apparent ignorance of time passing. How could he have lost track so completely? She had counted every agonising day while he seemed utterly indifferent. But then she focused on his use of the word we. We. After weeks of hiding, it suggested that he had accepted her presence on the ship. The realisation sent a rush of warmth through her—she was no longer just a stowaway. She was part of something.

"We need to move out of here soon. Could you help me? I've been trying to find—"

"The map!" she interrupted, excitement bubbling to the surface at the prospect of discovering what had consumed his thoughts.

"Yes, precisely. I've been trying to find a planet outside of Finisterra's control. Somewhere quiet and alone."

"I know just the place," Alyx said, moving swiftly out of the kitchen toward the control room where the map was located.

As Marcus followed her down the corridor, he couldn't shake his fascination with her. The look on her face told him she had endured a hard life on this ship before he arrived. The dark grey overalls she wore were battered and stained with oil—a stark reminder of the brutal existence she had led. The crew that had used this ship before him clearly hadn't provided her with a change of clothes.

She was from a marauder ship too, just like he had been rescued from by his mother, though she hadn't been as lucky. Despite feeling disappointed that his solitude was interrupted, he considered how Alyx might be useful in getting him to where he wanted to be: Away from everything.

Yet, a flicker of unease stirred within him. The fear his abilities had instilled in her was evident—enough to make her hide for so long. He didn't like the idea of scaring people. It felt wrong. To him, his powers had become a curse. People either wanted to exploit him, like Regina, or they were frightened of him, like alyx

As he entered the control room with the map, Marcus saw Alyx already scanning the projection, her fingers gliding over it as if searching for something just as elusive as what he'd been chasing for the past three weeks. The span of time felt much longer than it actually was to him.

"There!" Alyx pointed at a section of the map, nearly as isolated as their current location.

Marcus gave her the benefit of the doubt. "What's there?"

"The Topaz Star," she said, a spark of hope igniting in her eyes.

"You'll need to be more clear," Marcus replied, impatience creeping into his tone. He was tired of forcing himself to stay grounded. Maintaining a consistent pace in time was exhausting. He yearned to let go, to disappear into the chaotic flow of time where he could lose himself

"It's a star system with five habitable planets, each controlled by The Freehand Collective," Alyx explained, her voice laced with cautious excitement, as if she were sharing forbidden knowledge. Yet doubt flickered in her mind. Could she trust this man? "Finisterra keeps it a secret. They don't want anyone to know there's a world beyond their control. They don't want hope to take root. But hope always finds a way. And there it is."

"No." Marcus's response was blunt, cutting through her enthusiasm like a blade. He didn't want that. He wanted to be far away. Alone. His need to escape wasn't just from Finisterra; it was from the very burden of time that came with interacting with others. Maintaining consistency strained him. He yearned to be swallowed by time's ineffable vortex.

He recalled the effects his powers had on Regina and Alyx—lust for power and cowering fear. He loathed that aspect of his ability. All he wanted was to be free of it all. Of everything.

As Alyx opened her mouth to object, Marcus let go of his hold on consistency and as if time knew what he needed, it slowed, and Alyx stood motionless, her expression a mix of surprise and confusion. He walked away, distancing himself as far as he could in the confines of the ship. He needed time to think—and after all, he had as much time as he needed.