THE TIME-WARPERS

It seems like a Millenium has passed when I think of how it started; try more like a month in real-time. We were all at a manifestation against climate change, my brother Kamrul, his best friend Mizanur, and my best friend, Moriom. It was more an idea of our teacher, who always encouraged us to respect planet Earth and its people. We didn't always listen, but we agreed that the environment was becoming nuts! Our seasons were no longer the same, and it wasn't for the better.

We did our fair share to fight climate change; a week ago, we planted mango trees. How many were cut by the industry? That was one aspect that angered our teacher the most, how to make people aware of the importance of our resources? At 13, I didn't exactly think of those things, and far from me was the concept that I would be thrown right in the middle of it.

We were at the beginning of February, and the winter months in Bangla Desh were arid, so everyone was scorning at the darkening sky. It announced rain, perhaps even a storm. The wind was picking up, and as much as it proved our point, it ruined the spirit of many. Many manifesters were considering going home, taking refuge, because nothing suggested it wasn't about to get much worse.

As for us, we had no wish to go home; we had protested for three hours straight and needed refreshments. Saiful was our favorite vendor, and we began to search for him. Meanwhile, the winds were picking up, the storm coming closer. We checked Saiful's usual spots with no luck; he stayed hidden. We asked his brother, who told us he had gone home, so should we. They had just received a severe weather warning, and the danger was close.

We acknowledged and realized everyone around us was leaving. Which was too bad; we were supposed to meet an industrial leader who supported our dedication to keeping the forests intact. There were talks of giving us a grant. If there was one thing our teacher complained about was not having enough support, this could have been a big break instead; all these efforts were going down the drain literally.

As much as we regretted the situation and encouraged each other to be bold, we had to admit it was best to go home. Since we didn't live far, all we had to do was walk; or run. I never had the chance to start sprinting, hit by a wave that genuinely made me feel: dead in the water.

The wave of humidity? ( I could see the water sparkling inside a mystical round form that also resembled a face,) and I couldn't help but to feel swallowed whole, no longer on solid ground, floating in this eerie structure of a liquid being. The entity didn't need to breathe. Air didn't need to exist.

I was suffocating; my lungs filled with a magical elixir that, as much as it wanted me dead, was maintaining me alive. It was hell on water, and I swear time stopped, for I had no recollection of how long it lasted before it evaporated in a fine mist. Afterward, I was no longer the same; it had transformed me at the molecular level.

It was unique for each of us, and although different, my friends didn't have it better.

Kamrul did start sprinting to see the ground open before him immediately; Earth shook with such intensity that his bones rattled even after it was over. The Light was gone. Darkness reigned; the Earth's pressure increased over all his body, engulfing all his particles, constricting his lungs, leaving him with no air to breathe. Trapped in the kingdom of the land below, the land above had no reach. Kamrul truly felt this was his burial ground, his funeral, he tried to scream, and his voice echoed in the void of all the other elements. There was no escape, no way out, defenseless, and at the mercy of this mystical force, he waited for the conclusion.

It was impossible to tell how long time stopped; nevertheless, it became clear that the entity didn't mean to kill him. Life was still pulsating, nourishing the vital areas; it was the source that stayed unknown to his mind. It wasn't he who was maintaining himself alive.

The origin was ancient, from a different realm that kept contact with our vegetative system. The link was through a deep root that pumped life into the very fiber of his being, sustaining him, nourishing, and activating new areas in his cortex. He was only released once the alterations were complete.

Mizanur, who feared every kind of storm, didn't even attempt to run; he stayed frozen until he was thrown up into the sky, swept away by a whirlwind that spiraled faster than the eye could see. The velocity ensured he lost consciousness; no human could endure this and stay alive, no human by its own. He wasn't alone.

Where he was, only air could exist, which was the influence he was subjected to, ironically to the point he could no longer breathe. He was in suspension, sustained by an unknown organization that compressed the air particle around him to 125 PSI. Mizanur was both crushed and reinforced by it. A greater air intensity had integrated into his cells and the knowledge to use it with it. His first new breath seemed thousands of years old because nothing about it was new. What had attacked him had a direct link with time, and it could use it to bend the laws of reality. It had given him capacities to prevent Mizanur's death, capacities now Mizanur shared.

Moriom's eyes were red with anxiety as she followed Kamrul in the depth of the Earth. She rolled into many tight crevices, sensing how the heat increased each time. It was relentless; degrees upon degrees was rising, scorching her flesh. It reached the point where she could no longer feel anything; for her nervous system, she was dead.

She awoke on a rock in a large cavern, surrounded by molten lava. It didn't come from a volcano; she had reached the center of the Earth. Her eyes shone fire, her vision blurred by the carbonization of what she once was; it seemed she had become fire. A voice echoed in her head. Her brain waves, marked with an iron that kept pulsating with a constant rhythm that repeated the same word: Burn.

At first, she thought the message was addressed to her and held onto the hope that her ordeal would end quickly. She was propelled up and could see she was still in one piece. Doubts flowed in her making her wonder if she would stay that way. She traveled in the meander of Earth's entrails at a velocity worthy of dispersing all her particles. She reached the surface way too fast, which didn't mark the end of the trial; for either of us.

We had all undergone our specific transformations from different forces that were nevertheless at the service of the same entity. The following sequence of events served one purpose: to strengthen those characteristics. Wind and rain were at their most potent; the clouds couldn't be darker; electricity sparkled everywhere as hundreds of lightning struck at once. The storm had reached its peak.

Time froze and the hundreds of lightning with it, then, when nothing else moved, the lightning bolts converged into one, who then split into 4, one for each of us. It hit us simultaneously and transmitted its energy; it changed our neurotransmitters so we could hear and understand another language, a tongue our species could not hear.

Freedom to stay who we are was now a dream. In a way, we had become servants of the will of forces more prominent than our own. We felt it every time we tried to take the initiative; it had to know, screen, and accept before we could move. The time-lapse was less than half a second, but it was noticeable and a continuous reminder we were prisoners. Soldiers for an unknown army who had to follow orders or penalties would ensue. We had no wish to defy; we were petrified with fear and bewilderment. We just wanted it to be over, a wish we would never be granted.

The voice boomed in our head, and we felt our synapses make further adjustments. One name echoed, making a loop as it repeated itself. Mohammed Khatun. We knew a lot of Mohammed; it was a common name. Mohammed Khatun, in this case, could only be the industry leader we were supposed to meet.

After this revelation, all became silent, the storm had passed, and the survivors were going back home, us included.

We were unable to speak, not even to each other. Later, we learned we all gulped our supper and went straight to bed. None of us had an easy night; our hearts were pulsating too fast, we were both cold and hot. We were unbalanced and on a destructive path, which luckily didn't have nefarious consequences since we were in our beds.

It was constant; rage coursed through my body and soul, that rage wasn't mine, and I feared what it was about to do. For the moment, I was in control, and I tried to hold on to that.

Morning came way too fast; I was far from rested. I got up and began looking for my brother, hoping we could discuss all we had witnessed. I came into the kitchen; my mom and brother were already there. My mom was preparing porridge, not our favorite meal. We told her so, and she said we could eat what we wanted if we got up earlier than her and had already prepared something. An attempt my brother had tried and failed.

The ordeal was still fresh in my mind, and my body urged for a bowl of cereal; they were nutritious and sugary, precisely what I needed. I acted subconsciously, driven by my desires.

I dashed to the kitchen board, got a bowl, poured my cereals, and added milk, expecting my mother to yell at any time. Under my brother's astonished eyes, I sat down. When my mother turned around and could see me, munching my cereals, she merely said:

" Well, you finally did it; I hope you will see the value of getting up early."

My brother and I exchanged glances; how could this be? Ok, so by making the porridge, her back was turned to me but hadn't she heard all the noise I made? Her senses were acute for these kinds of things. We waited, thinking she was tricking us, but as we left the house, we realized I had gotten away with it. I didn't know it at the time, but that was my first encounter with my new powers.

We walked down a street silent as a grave; our vocal capacities came back only once we were all four together again. We had reached our destination, a mango forest we had helped propagate further. One of the few successes we could be proud of as upholders of a better future.

" They should arrive any minute now," Kamrul said.

Simultaneously we threw a look at the sun, reading the time instantly. They should be close; we stretched our unique senses; I got a lock through the beads of sweat dropping on the ground. Kamrul focused on the steps reverberating on the land and came to the same conclusion. Mizanur caught their breath in the air from the disruption it caused. Moriom's vision burned through the trees; a way of speaking, she could remove what obstructed her vision even if it was still there in reality. She could see them 500 meters into the forest. She confirmed there were 9, a number we had all deduced.

Our mission was to follow them unseen, undetected; that was all we were allowed to know. We obeyed and started to make our way toward them. Two people examined the trees, size, height, quality of the wood, etc. Others spoke vehemently and enthusiastically; one of them was Mohammed Khatun. At his sight, our blood began to boil; whatever the goal of our presence, it was directly related to him. A loud pulsating rage screamed liar! It kept us from clearly hearing what he was saying. We mentally subsided it and weren't astonished by what we had already begun to suspect.

The talks were all about cutting the forests down. Khatun was a traitor from a to z. Two lawyers were there, so probably the courts were behind him. It was only a matter of time before we lost everything we had worked for; it partially explained yesterday's attack; it wasn't against us; it was for us.

Enraged, disgusted, and partially discouraged, we decided to return home. We had a massive responsibility on our shoulders and limited means. How could someone believe that these powers ( that we barely had the know-how) could be enough against well-organized business people who had millions? It was the world upside down! None of us was even an adult!

Despite all the revolt and sense of injustice, we couldn't desist from our mission. Planet Earth chose us to defend her resources, her integrity, and if she was ready to go to that length, it meant our leaders were driving us to extinction. We couldn't let that happen, not after all our ancestors' efforts into our evolution!

Animated by our new resolve, we were still at a loss as to what to do. We might have felt alone in our quest; it didn't mean we were. The way home had taken a slight detour and had led us to machinery. Khatun didn't want to waste a single second; it almost looked like he was ready to use it tomorrow. We exchanged looks and didn't need more to know what would come next.

Security was at a minimum; nevertheless, we heard guards coming. We dodged them with ease thinking we would soon meet again. Daylight wasn't the best time to strike.

On the way home, we met our teacher; he asked us how we were and how scary the storm had been. We told him we took cover and waited for it to pass, barely afraid. I am not sure if he believed us. Since he was so implicated in climate change and protecting the environment, we told him about the machinery we had found at the mango forest. He didn't look too happy, and he scuttled away.

It was midnight; we didn't need to check the hour; we knew. We got up and traveled to the forest. We might have used our legs, but it didn't feel that way. It was more like commuting on the same frequency, voyaging into the air, transported by another means than our body. We arrived at midnight, which suggested teleportation. We weren't interested in how we came here; we had a job to do.

There weren't a hundred ways to prevent the forest's decimation; we had to impose our destruction. We each inhabited specific forces of destruction; this was the first time we used them, making it quite a spectacle.

I drew upon the humidity in the air and formed a droplet. It quickly grew and joined with others to create a wall of water. I directed it to cover a bulldozer. The water extended to swallow it whole. I snapped my fingers; lightning struck, the electricity traveled short-circuiting the engine; one demolished twenty-three to go.

This mission turned out to be more fun than I expected. It was a chance to explore my abilities, to discover what I could achieve because all this was so new that I had difficulty keeping up. I felt like an infant that started crawling, jumped to walking, and ended up sprinting.

It seemed the element I controlled best was water; it obeyed my every desire. Water might be essential to stay alive, but it also entered into the category of a weapon of mass destruction. I significantly increased the water pressure and crushed the machinery to a metallic pulp. I became so good at directing the forces that I could make the crushed metal take any form; my sculptures were works of art.

Kamrul, on the other hand, didn't want to leave any clue on the existence of the machinery he annihilated. Earth obeyed him. When his hand descended up to down, it was a signal to form an opening, which he controlled the width by joining his two hands together and expanding. He froze his hands in place and waited. The crack dug deeper until he closed his hands together, and all traces of the machinery and chasm were gone.

His ability to direct a tremendous amount of power at one area was so intense that the Earth didn't shake or make any sounds; it compressed harder to make the hole and then filled it back as if nothing had happened, making him the most efficient at his task. Others' methods were much more dazzling.

Mizanur mastered the air to perfection; it followed his every whim, and he took full advantage of it. With that ability, he could levitate anything, and he propelled the machinery at an impressive hundred meters into the air before dropping at high velocity on the ground. In this case, gravity was a killer.

Mizanur was taken aback by the landing; the machinery had diverted from its original trajectory and rolled toward him. Doubtful it would have crushed him had it hit him; it wasn't something he wanted to check. His reaction was prompt as he managed to stop time, and all became still around him. It cut the momentum of the machinery, probably because he willed it. We all noticed we were the only ones moving during that episode, still unsure of what happened or how to repeat it. All this was still at the instinct level rather than conscious thoughts.

We were fast learners, and Mizanur's second destruction was much more smooth. He raised far above his next victim and controlled the landing, so it plummeted on another one. He kept the accident restricted with a wall of air that stopped further intrusion. There were no more risks to a complete obliteration that left the machinery unusable.

Mizanur didn't subdue the noise it made; the raucous could only attract attention. He didn't bother because there was no point. As far as attention went, he was beaten by Moriom's, who turned the whole thing into blinding fireworks.

Moriom's eyes always became red when she expressed her fierce powers. Her vision inhabited a flaming fire that she could put into existence with a deadly spark. She couldn't create fire, but she could send by sparks by snapping her fingers into the air, and with the proper fuel, the blaze could take gigantic proportions. She lit two ATVs, and it wasn't long before they exploded, alerting the whole neighborhood.

No one was happy about that; this was supposed to be undercover. It was too late to correct the mistake; still, Moriom discovered that she could play with the temperature and increase it at will once the fire was active. Four feller bunchers learned it by being melted away in an eerie silence.

It was so quiet we detected footsteps; guards rushed at the site. Their orders were clear: shoot first, ask questions later. The bullets pierced the air, their aim true and deadly. Our reaction was instantaneous, our defense mechanism faster than the attacker; we stopped time.

The projectiles floated in the air, their aim no longer valid now that we had moved. Everything else around us, including the guards, was frozen in time, trapped in a neverending sequence of non-existence. We passed right by one and jumpstarted; his traits distorted to the point he was no longer recognizable. His whole being was out of phase. He looked like a monster, an inoffensive monster. It seemed to be a direct consequence of stopping time, for it affected all living creatures, animals included. We were the only ones who looked normal.

We laughed, amazed and a bit traumatized at once. We had beaten the laws of physics; we had pushed back certain death. We had expressed abilities out of this world, and nothing of it could feel real just yet; to be stuck in a crazy cartoon would have made more sense.

On the way back, we noticed police cars coming to arrest us. They were about to get one hell of a surprise.

When we reached home, we went straight to bed and fell asleep instantly. I threw one last look at the clock; it said midnight, and one second, I nearly felt me going out to begin the mission while I was slipping in because it was over. Next to my clock was a photograph of my teacher and part of the class. It was a few years old, we were a lot younger, and I felt a tinge of regret thinking back. What gripped me about it was the image; it was distorted, scary, just like the people when time stopped. I blinked, and it was back to its standard form. So time-warping wasn't under our control alone, but it was directly related to us. It reassured me time started to move again, and we had done it!

The next day the destroyed equipment was all over the news; who could have done it? Our escapade had served another important service; it had exposed Khatun's plan. Because of the publicity, other environmental organizations got implicated and blocked the legal process to cut down the forest. We had succeeded on all fronts.

Khatun was a snake, and he played the innocent card. He pretended to be clueless about this act of treason but that he would get to the bottom of it. He would find the responsible. Unfortunately, he managed to weasel his way out with all his connections.

We might have saved this forest. But we knew Khatun's next plan, find another one. In the slight discouragement we experienced, we strengthened our resolve; they might try to ruin Earth's resources, we were there to stop them.

We had the means, and we had the will. We also had the sense of urgency planet Earth had transmitted to us because this wasn't a fight for our survival; it was a fight to stop total extinction. Blood boiled in our veins at how precarious the situation had become. We were Earth's last chance to stay the planet she was meant to be, one that could support life. Our life.