Ray sat stiffly in the courtroom, wrists cuffed, his eyes staring blankly ahead. The cold metal dug into his skin, but he didn't care. His mother sat beside him, her hands folded tightly in her lap. She wasn't crying. She wasn't even looking at him. Just staring at the table, face unreadable.

Across the room, Marcus and his family sat with their lawyer, a man who looked like he had been born wearing a suit. Slicked-back hair, expensive watch, and a voice that dripped with fake concern every time he spoke.

And the judge? Ray could already tell this wasn't going to be fair.

The man looked half-asleep, nodding along as Marcus's lawyer listed off every charge against Ray like he was reading a grocery list.

?: "Robbery. Assault. Battery. Arson. Multiple counts of theft."

The lawyer sighed dramatically, shaking his head as if Ray had personally offended him.

?: "This young man is nothing short of a menace. A vicious animal that has no place in civilized society. Your Honor, the evidence is overwhelming. Witnesses, footage, physical proof. He not only destroyed my client's home, but he physically mutilated my client, leaving him permanently disabled."

Marcus lifted his bandaged hand for effect. His fingers were gone. Not that Ray felt bad about that.

?: "This boy is violent. Uncontrollable. Dangerous. He belongs in juvenile detention before he hurts someone else, or worse."

Ray clenched his jaw. His nails dug into his palms. He wanted to laugh. They had no actual proof he was the one who wrecked Marcus's house.

But it didn't matter. The lawyer talked like it was a fact, and the judge didn’t care enough to question it.

Katherine "Your Honor, if I may–"

Judge: "You may not,"

The judge interrupted, barely glancing her way. Ray turned his head slowly, staring at the old man on the bench. Seriously?

His mother stiffened, but she didn’t argue. She just clenched her fists in her lap and went quiet.

That's when Ray knew.

This was a set-up.

The way Marcus's parents sat there, smug and composed. The way the judge didn't even pretend to care about the defense. The way his own mother wasn't even allowed to speak.

This wasn't a trial.

This was a sentence.

Ray let his head fall back against the chair, staring up at the ceiling.....He was so screwed.

The trial dragged on, the air thick with tension. The courtroom was cold, sterile, but suffocating. The only sounds were the droning voice of Marcus's lawyer and the rhythmic scribbling of the court stenographer.

Ray sat there, half-listening, his fingers digging into his chair. He already knew what they were going to say.

𝘿𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨. 𝙐𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚. 𝘼 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙘𝙚.

It was a broken record at this point.

Marcus sat across from him, wrapped in bandages, his bruised face locked in a smug expression. His parents sat beside him, putting on the perfect show of grief and outrage.

Katherine sat next to him, her back straight, her face cold and unreadable. But Ray could feel it, the way her hands clenched in her lap, the way her foot tapped subtly against the floor. She was on edge.

Then, a knock at the door shut everyone up. The sound cut through the courtroom like a gunshot.

Judge: "Who in the devil is interrupting my courtroom?"

The entire room turned toward the entrance as the heavy doors creaked open.

And in walked him.

The first thing that stood out was the suit. Black and gold, stitched with precision, fitting his frame perfectly.

It wasn't modern, it looked like something from an older era, but somehow, it suited him. A white hood rested over his shoulders, leading up to a smooth, featureless white mask.

Then there were the clocks.

Golden timepieces adorned his gloves, his belt, even the head of his cane, which tapped lightly against the floor with each step. He moved slowly, deliberately, like he wasn’t late at all.

The judge narrowed his eyes.

Judge: "And who are you supposed to be?"

The man tilted his head slightly, his mask catching the dim courtroom light.

???: "Ah, apologies, Your Honor. Lost track of time."

His voice was smooth, amused. Like he was enjoying this.

Ray blinked baffle.

Marcus's lawyer scowled.

Lawyer: "This is a closed hearing. If you don't have business here, you need to‐"

???: "I do."

The man lifted a gloved hand, cutting him off effortlessly.

???: "My para-profile is already in the system. You may call me…Father Clock."

Murmurs rippled through the courtroom. The name carried weight. Some of the officers in the room stiffened.

The bailiff shifted uneasily.
Ray had never heard of him before, but from the way people reacted, he was someone.

The judge's frown deepened.

Judge: "And what, exactly, is your business here?"

Father Clock turned his head slightly, his mask settling on Ray. Then, just as smoothly, he turned back to the judge.

Father Clock: "I am here to represent the young man."

Ray|Lawyer|Katherine: "What?/!/!!?"

Marcus's lawyer scoffed.

Lawyer: "On whose authority."

Father Clock: "Shhh-Shh-shhhhhhhhut your mouth."

The lawyer's mouth snapped shut mid-sentence. Not because he wanted to, but because the sheer audacity of the interruption threw him off so badly, he physically forgot how to respond.

Murmurs rippled through the courtroom. The judge, now rubbing his temple, sighed deeply.

Judge: "You can't just–"

Father Clock lifted his cane slightly, tilting his head.

Father Clock: "No, no, I very much can. And will."

He stepped forward, unshaken, completely in control.

Father Clock: "Now. Shall we begin? I would like to present my case."

He snapped his fingers.

The lights in the courtroom flickered. The air shifted, subtle, like a secondhand on a clock ticking just out of sync.

A screen fizzled to life in the center of the room. The judge recoiled, blinking at it like he wasn't sure whether to be impressed or annoyed.

Father Clock tapped his cane twice.

Father Clock: "Ladies and gentlemen, what you are about to witness is undeniable truth. A firsthand account, taken from multiple perspectives."

The video played.

At first, it was shaky phone footage, kids screaming, shoving each other to get a better angle. Then it switched, security footage from the school, showing the fight in crystal-clear quality.

ᴍᴀʀᴄᴜꜱ'ꜱ ꜰɪꜱᴛ ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇʟᴇᴄᴛʀɪᴄɪᴛʏ.

ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴀɴɢʟᴇ.

ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ʀᴀʏ ʜɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀʀᴄᴜꜱ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ɢᴏɪɴɢ. ᴘᴜɴᴄʜ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴘᴜɴᴄʜ, ᴇꜱᴄᴀʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ꜰᴀʀ ᴡᴏʀꜱᴇ.

ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʀᴀʏ ʙɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴡɴ..

A sharp gasp rippled through the courtroom as they watched Marcus yank his hand back. The security camera showed it all, the blood, the missing fingers, the expression on Marcus's face when he realized what had just happened.

Father Clock let the footage loop once.
Then twice. Then, with a snap of his fingers, the screen vanished.

He turned back to the judge, tilting his head slightly.

Father Clock: "Now, I do believe the law allows one to defend themselves when attacked, yes?"

The courtroom was silent.

The judge shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers tapping against the gavel as he glanced toward Marcus's lawyer. The man, who had been smug just moments ago, was now red-faced and flustered.

Judge: "Well...this certainly complicates things."

Marcus's mother, a well-dressed woman with sharp eyes, stood up suddenly.

Mrs. Harker: "This doesn't change a thing! Th-that animal burned my house down! He stole from us! He's dangerous!"

Father Clock didn't even turn to face her. He simply sighed, adjusting his cuffs.

Father Clock: "Tell me, do you even have proof that this fourteen-year-old child was the one who committed these alleged crimes?"

Marcus's lawyer scoffed, flipping through his papers dramatically.

Lawyer: "The house was destroyed! His belongings were taken! And need I remind you, a fire was set! Who else could it be, besides the one who was causing problems for him?"

Father Clock tilted his head, tapping his cane against the floor.

Father Clock: "Hmm. That's a very compelling argument. Truly. A house was destroyed, so obviously, it must have been the school boy with no resources, no vehicle, and no history of criminal activity."

The sarcasm dripped from his voice, but before the lawyer could snap back, he continued.

Father Clock: "Tell me, do you have security footage? Any witnesses? Fingerprints, perhaps?"

The lawyer faltered.

Lawyer: "Well, no, but–"

Father Clock: "Ah! So what you have is assumption. No proof. No evidence. Just finger-pointing."

Marcus’s mother stood again, slamming her hands on the table.

Mrs. Harker: "Who the hell do you think you are?! That boy is a menace! H-he bit off my son’s fingers!"

Father Clock finally turned to look at her. His golden eyes gleamed from beneath his mask.

Father Clock: "Oh, and did your son happen to mention that he was trying to cave the poor boy's skull in at the time? Or did that little detail slip his mind?"

Mrs. Harker went pale

Father Clock: "Ah, and let us not forget one very important detail, ladies and gentlemen of the court."

He took a step forward, tapping his cane against the floor, the rhythmic tick-tock of unseen clocks filling the air.

Father Clock: "It is, in fact, illegal for Para-Formers to use their abilities in public. A law set in place to protect civilians from unnecessary harm."

He turned his masked face towards Marcus, his golden eyes gleaming.

Father Clock: "Now, let me ask you, dear Marcus…Who was the first to use their powers that day?"

Marcus shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his injured hand twitching. He refused to speak.

Father Clock: "No answer? Well, let's refresh your memory, shall we?"

He motioned towards the screen at the front of the courtroom, where the security footage had been paused. With a flick of his cane, the video resumed, showing Marcus winding up for the first punch, his fist crackling with electricity.

Father Clock: "There it is. Caught in crystal clear quality. The very moment Marcus Harker activated his abilities, in a public setting, against an unarmed minor."

The courtroom murmured, whispers spreading like wildfire.

Father Clock straightened his posture, his cane tapping against the floor with every slow, deliberate movement.

His mask remained ever-still, but there was something in the air, something unsettling about his presence. He almost loomed over everyone, a shadow that couldn't be ignored.

Father Clock: "Ladies and gentlemen of the court, let us take a moment to appreciate the facts as they stand. Marcus Harker, who attacked first, is one of your so-called 'Para-Formers', a special kind of being, yes?"

He turned his head slowly, letting his words sink in as his gaze briefly flicked over to Marcus, whose hands were still cradling his injured fingers.

Father Clock: "Now, we all witnessed the altercation. Marcus's punches were enhanced by electrical currents, a signature move, if you will. But what I want to draw your attention to is the most curious thing: Ray Carver's... response."

He turned his eyes to Ray, his gaze piercing through the mask, though it was impossible to tell if Father Clock even had eyes. The room seemed to hold its breath.

Father Clock: "When Marcus's fist landed in Ra'’s mouth, it was not just a simple bite. It was an inhuman reaction. Marcus's enhanced fist was meant to strike with incredible force, but Ray's teeth cut through it as if it were butter."

The courtroom shifted. Murmurs rose like a wave, but Father Clock raised his hand, silencing them with the slightest motion.

Father Clock: "That, my friends, is not normal. A normal human's teeth would shatter before they could even sink into the skin of a Para being like Marcus. Yet, Ray Carver's bite not only punctured it, it severed it."

Ray's eyes widened slightly. He hadn't thought much about the strength behind his bite until Father Clock pointed it out.

Father Clock: "You see, ladies and gentlemen, this points to something far more fascinating than simple self-defense. This is the behavior of a Para-former. Ray Carver may very well be one himself."

The room fell into stunned silence. Even Marcus's lawyer seemed to stiffen at the suggestion.

Father Clock gave a small...i-i think? knowing smile, turning toward the judge with a bow of his head.

Father Clock: "And that, dear judge, is why I suggest the Black Hill Institute as Ray's next destination. A place where he can be properly trained, where his abilities can be nurtured, rather than squandered in some juvenile facility."

Father Clock's words lingered in the air like the ticking of an ominous clock.

Father Clock: "It's clear that Ray Carver’s powers, whatever they may be, are unmatched by typical human standards. His transformation into something else deserves careful guidance. And Black Hill is the only place I trust to handle such... exceptional individuals."

As he spoke, the air seemed to thicken with tension. His mask shifted imperceptibly, his focus now entirely on Katherine.

Katherine's body trembled with emotion. Her eyes flashed with something raw, something deep.....fear. She stood there, almost as if rooted to the spot, her fingers clenched so tightly that her knuckles were pale.

But the fear in her eyes was unmistakable. She knew something about Black Hill that no one else in this room did.

Katherine: "No..."

She quickly swallowed the lump in her throat, standing taller.

Katherine: "I won’t let you send him there. He's my son. You don't even know what you're talking about."

Father Clock's head tilted slightly, as if studying her reaction.

Father Clock: "Ah, Afraid of what lies behind the doors of Black Hill. And I don't blame you. It's not a place for the faint of heart, but it is exactly what your boy needs to control what is clearly a power he doesn’t fully understand."

Katherine stepped forward, her voice rising in desperation.

Katherine: "You don't get to decide what's best for him! You're not his father, you don't know him!"

Her eyes burned with frustration,
Ray, who had been standing silently until now, felt a knot tighten in his stomach.

Father Clock: "I'm afraid the truth is unavoidable. And as for the matter of Ray's true identity, well, we shall find that out in time, won’t we?"

Ray's heart pounded, and suddenly everything felt real. Was he a Para-former? Was he the kind of thing that should be locked away? He had no answers.

Katherine's reaction was all he had to go off of, and she seemed more terrified than ever.

Father Clock turned to the court again, his mask gleaming like the ticking of a clock.

Father Clock: "Let's not forget, a Para-former is a weapon without the right guidance. And unless Ray is given the right tools to control his power, well, he could become a danger to himself, and to others."

The courtroom fell into a thick, uncomfortable silence. The judge, his face unreadable, took one last look at the case file before raising his gavel.

Judge: "The court has reviewed the evidence presented, and despite the fact that Ray Carver is not guilty of the crimes he has been accused of...his violent actions and the manifestation of his abilities have left us no choice. His powers, as demonstrated in the altercation, present a serious risk to himself and others."

The judge paused, his gavel raised as if to punctuate the severity of his words.

Judge: "As such, Ray Carver is hereby sentenced to be sent to Black Hill Institute for containment and rehabilitation. His stay there will serve as both a learning process and a safeguard for the public."

Ray's stomach dropped. The weight of the sentence hit him like a brick. He wasn't being punished for something he hadn't done, he was being sent away because of who he was, because of something he couldn't control.

His eyes found Katherine, whose face was pale and tight with fear. She opened her mouth to protest but remained silent.

The courtroom was filled with whispers, but Ray didn't hear any of it. His mind raced, thoughts tangled, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

The words Black Hill echoed in his head like a hammer striking steel, leaving him with an unsettling, cold feeling deep in his gut.

Father Clock stepped forward, the smirk on his masked face almost too pleased, too satisfied. He turned his head to meet Ray’s gaze, the clock-like gears in his mask ticking softly as though time itself was mocking him.

Father Clock: "Well, Ray, it seems the wheels of fate have begun turning. Don't worry; we'll meet again soon. I'll see you in a few seconds."

Ray opened his mouth to speak, to ask questions, but before he could say anything, Father Clock raised his hand.

With a sudden, sharp tick-tock sound, a burst of light surrounded the man. It was blinding, a flash so quick that even the most attentive eyes barely registered it.

What did he mean a few seconds?

Ray was left standing in the middle of the courtroom, his world spinning out of control. The lingering scent of clockwork oil and the faint tick-tock sound seemed to echo in his ears.

_____________

The car ride home was tense. The kind of tension that could shatter glass. The only sound for the first few minutes was the hum of the engine and the faint tick of the blinker when Katherine changed lanes.

Ray sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, jaw clenched so tight it felt like his teeth would crack. His mind was racing, jumping between anger, confusion, and a deep, gnawing frustration.

Black Hill. His powers. Father Clock. Nothing made sense. But the one person who could make sense of it was sitting right beside him.

And she was silent. That pissed him off more than anything.

Ray: "So, are you gonna tell me what the hell that was all about, or are we just gonna pretend like everything's fine?"

Katherine gripped the wheel tighter, her knuckles white.

Katherine: "Ray, now's not the time."

Ray: "Not the time? When is it ever the time?! When were you planning to tell me I might not even be human?!"

Katherine exhaled sharply through her nose, her eyes never leaving the road.

Katherine: "You don’t understand–"

Ray: "Yeah, because you never tell me anything! Who the hell was that clock guy? Why does he know more about me than I do? And what the hell is Black Hill?"

Katherine remained silent, her lips pressed into a firm line.

That did it.

Ray slammed his fist against the dashboard, causing the radio to flicker with static.

Ray: "God, you're such a—"

He cut himself off, shaking his head. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears.

Ray: "You lie to me. You always lie to