The crimson energy crackled around Izuku's fingers, a miniature lightning storm contained only by sheer force of will. Or, perhaps, by something else entirely. The System, he supposed. He focused, trying to remember everything he had read about energy manipulation – theoretical physics papers, Quirk analysis files, even a few fantasy novels he'd devoured as a kid. None of it seemed relevant.
He was dealing with something beyond the scope of known science, a force that felt both alien and intimately connected to him. The Negative Speed Force. Even the name was ominous.
He was in his room, the only place he felt even remotely safe experimenting. All Might posters stared down at him, their smiling faces a stark contrast to the turmoil churning within him. He needed to understand this power, to control it, before it controlled him.
He took a deep breath, visualizing the energy flowing through him, tracing its path from whatever source it originated from to the tips of his fingers. It was a chaotic, turbulent stream, like trying to hold back a raging river with his bare hands. He tried to smooth it out, to find a rhythm, a pattern.
He focused on a teacup sitting on his desk, a chipped ceramic mug he'd had since he was a child. It was a mundane object, perfect for a small-scale test. He pictured the crimson energy enveloping the cup, then… nothing. He couldn't quite grasp what he was supposed to *do*.
He gritted his teeth, frustration building. He needed a framework, a method. He thought back to the System's initial directive: 'Stabilize Connection.' What did that even mean? He tried to recall any sensation from that initial surge of power, anything that might give him a clue.
He remembered a feeling of… displacement. A pulling, a warping. He focused on that feeling, trying to recreate it, to amplify it. The crimson energy around his fingers intensified, thrumming with barely contained power.
He pictured the teacup again, not just as an object, but as a point in space and time. He imagined pulling it, just for a fraction of a second, out of the present.
And then it happened.
The teacup flickered. One moment it was there, solid and familiar, the next it was… gone. Just a shimmering distortion in the air where it had been. Then, just as suddenly, it reappeared.
Izuku gasped, stumbling back from his desk. He stared at the teacup, his heart pounding in his chest. He reached out a trembling hand and touched it. It was solid, real.
`[System Notification: Localized Temporal Displacement Detected.]`
`[System Notification: Connection Stability: 1.2% → 1.3%]`
The System messages flashed in his vision, adding a layer of surreal detachment to the already unbelievable event. He had just… shifted something in time? Even a tiny, insignificant teacup.
He sat heavily in his chair, trying to process what he'd just done. The implications were staggering. Time travel? Altering the past? The potential for both good and catastrophic consequences was immense.
He ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing. He couldn't tell anyone about this. Not yet. Not until he understood it better. The risks were too great. He could just imagine All Might's reaction.
He looked at the teacup again, his gaze narrowed. It was just a teacup, but it was also a symbol. A symbol of the power he now wielded, the power to manipulate the very fabric of reality.
He decided to try again. This time, he would be more controlled, more precise. He focused on the teacup, visualizing the temporal distortion. He tried to isolate the specific sensation, the exact mental command that had triggered the anomaly.
He channeled the crimson energy, carefully guiding it towards the teacup. He focused on pulling it out of sync with the present, not completely, just a fraction of a second.
This time, instead of disappearing completely, the teacup seemed to blur, its edges wavering. It was as if it were caught between two moments in time, existing in a superposition of past and present.
`[System Notification: Minor Temporal Instability Detected.]`
`[System Notification: Connection Stability: 1.3% → 1.4%]`
He held the effect for a few seconds, then released it. The teacup snapped back into focus, perfectly normal. But Izuku could still feel the residual energy, the lingering distortion in the air.
He realized he was sweating, his heart rate elevated. Even these small, controlled experiments were taking a toll. He needed to learn how to manage the Negative Speed Force more efficiently.
He thought back to the System messages, specifically the 'Connection Stability' percentage. It was increasing, albeit slowly, with each successful temporal displacement. Was that the key? To simply keep using the power, to keep pushing its limits until his connection was stable?
The thought was both tempting and terrifying. What if pushing the limits caused a catastrophic temporal event? What if he accidentally erased himself from existence?
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He needed a plan, a structured approach. He couldn't just blindly experiment with a power this dangerous.
He grabbed his notebook and a pen, his hero-analysis instincts kicking in. He started to write, meticulously documenting everything he had observed, every sensation he had experienced.
He wrote about the flow of the crimson energy, its chaotic nature, its connection to his emotions. He wrote about the temporal distortions, their effects on the teacup, the System notifications.
He filled page after page with notes, diagrams, and hypotheses. He analyzed the energy signatures, the temporal fluctuations, the potential risks and benefits.
As he wrote, he began to formulate a theory. The Negative Speed Force, he hypothesized, was not simply a source of energy, but a conduit. A conduit to… something else. Something beyond human comprehension.
He theorized that the 'Connection Stability' percentage represented his ability to safely channel that energy, to control its flow. The more stable the connection, the less risk of catastrophic temporal anomalies.
He also began to suspect that the Negative Speed Force was influencing his emotions, amplifying his negative feelings. He noticed that he was more irritable, more prone to anger and despair.
He wrote down a list of potential countermeasures, techniques to mitigate the emotional effects of the power. Meditation, exercise, spending time with friends. Anything to keep his mind and emotions balanced.
He knew it wouldn't be easy. The Negative Speed Force was a powerful and insidious force, and he was just a single person, trying to control it.
He looked at the clock. It was late, past midnight. He should get some sleep, but he couldn't. Not yet. He was too wired, too consumed by the implications of his discovery.
He decided to try one more experiment. This time, he would focus on manipulating time, not just space. He would try to accelerate the teacup's aging process, to see if he could make it decay faster.
He focused on the teacup, visualizing the flow of time around it. He imagined accelerating its molecular decay, speeding up the natural process of entropy.
He channeled the crimson energy, carefully guiding it towards the teacup. He focused on manipulating the temporal flow, accelerating the passage of time within its immediate vicinity.
Nothing happened.
He tried again, increasing the intensity of the energy flow. Still nothing.
He frowned, frustrated. He was missing something. He thought back to his initial experiments, to the feeling of displacement, the warping of space and time.
He realized that he had been focusing on the teacup itself, on its physical properties. But what if the key was not to manipulate the object, but to manipulate the *environment* around it?
He shifted his focus, visualizing the space surrounding the teacup. He imagined warping the temporal flow in that area, creating a localized time dilation effect.
He channeled the crimson energy, carefully guiding it towards the space around the teacup. He focused on creating a temporal vortex, a localized distortion in the fabric of time.
This time, something happened.
The air around the teacup shimmered, distorting the light. The teacup itself seemed to vibrate, its surface blurring.
`[System Notification: Temporal Field Manipulation Detected.]`
`[System Notification: Minor Energy Drain Detected.]`
`[System Notification: Connection Stability: 1.4% → 1.3%]`
He held the effect for a few seconds, then released it. The shimmering subsided, the air cleared, and the teacup… looked the same.
He examined it closely, searching for any signs of aging or decay. Nothing. It was as if the experiment had had no effect at all.
He sighed, disappointed. He had expended a significant amount of energy, and all he had to show for it was a slightly lower 'Connection Stability' percentage.
He was about to give up when he noticed something. A faint, almost imperceptible crack on the side of the teacup. A crack that hadn't been there before.
He picked up the teacup, examining the crack closely. It was tiny, hairline fracture, but it was definitely new.
He realized that he had succeeded in accelerating the teacup's aging process, but only by a minuscule amount. The effect was so subtle that it was almost undetectable.
But it was proof. Proof that he could manipulate time, even if only on a small scale.
He smiled, a weary but satisfied smile. He had made progress. He had learned something new.
He put the teacup back on his desk, the faint crack a silent reminder of the power he now possessed.
He knew that the road ahead would be long and difficult. He still had much to learn, much to understand.
But he was determined to master the Negative Speed Force, to control its power, and to use it to protect others.
He closed his notebook, turned off the lights, and went to bed. He was exhausted, but his mind was still racing.
As he drifted off to sleep, he dreamt of swirling crimson energy, of distorted timelines, and of the endless possibilities that lay ahead. He dreamt of the future, a future that he was now, in some small way, able to shape.