Morning light touched a small, tidy house near the quay. In the neat little yard, birds hopped among the flowers and chirped noisily. Upstairs, a boy of about fifteen or sixteen woke and stretched in bed, then lowered his feet to the floor, where his slippers were already waiting in perfect position – twelve centimeters from the bed and three centimeters apart. He checked the time on his sports watch. 5:58:36. Smiling to himself, he said aloud, Eighty-four seconds before the alarm. Just a little more, and time will be under my control. At once he tried to imitate Mandark’s laugh from Dexter’s Laboratory.

He turned on the music player on his computer. His playlist contained nothing but classical music, and this morning he chose Bach. Nothing charged his mind like polyphony – two independent melodies existing in harmony together, like the two halves of the brain. Then he crossed to the wardrobe to get dressed. Inside, everything followed a perfect system, arranged by color, shape, and texture. He put on his favorite blue polo shirt, took his glasses from the drawer, and set them carefully on his nose before sitting down at the desk and opening his notebook. There he wrote:

Ability – Time control
Woke up – 84 seconds before alarm
Number of pre-awakenings before final awakening – 5

The pages were filled with observations like this, proof that he had been experimenting on himself for quite some time. The reason was simple – he wanted to become a scientist. Not an ordinary one, but someone capable of discovering something that would remain in history. Sometimes he imagined creating something like Mendeleev’s table. Sometimes he dreamed of describing the architecture of Hell the way Dante once had, or revealing the structure of dreams the way Dali had shown them in paint. Then the thought faded, and he returned to numbers. Another day, another challenge, another date, another entry in the notebook. After closing it, he packed his schoolbag, brushed his teeth, washed his face, went downstairs, took a banana from the kitchen, and stepped outside toward school. Everything had been calculated.

A banana was enough for breakfast because it contained enough carbohydrates to supply the brain with energy. The goal was not to eat for pleasure, but to charge the mind like a battery. That was why mornings meant a banana – unless his grandmother woke earlier and made porridge. Lunch was usually chicken with rice, dinner fish with vegetables. The entire diet had been worked out with precision – proteins, fats, carbohydrates, all balanced and recorded in the same notebook. His beloved grandmother knew the system well. She supported his habits and called him my little professor, and when she wanted to tease him, she called him DextOr German.

Eating his banana, German walked slowly down the street, studying everything around him with quiet curiosity. At one point, passing an alley, he suddenly stumbled and almost fell. The reason was simple – a problem shared by many brilliant minds: when their attention locked onto something important, everything else faded from view. In scientific circles the phenomenon was known as absent-mindedness. Our little professor suffered from it regularly. This time he had simply failed to notice a small hole in the pavement.

The stumble snapped his focus back to reality. People, cars, the smell of asphalt warming in the sun – and laughter. Loud, cruel laughter coming from the alley beside him. German glanced over and instantly recognized the type. Teenagers like that were best avoided. He considered them stupid and unpredictable, but unfortunately they rarely avoided him. Bullying had become one of the most unpleasant constants in his life. Normally he would have walked past and pretended not to notice anything. This time he almost did – until he heard a faint, desperate meow.

For a second his heart seemed to stop. His mind ran through the possibilities with mechanical speed. Someone was hurting an animal. What should I do? Call for help? But who? By the time I explain, it will be too late. No… I can’t waste time.

Fear was there, loud and sharp, but his body moved before the fear could take control. When his thoughts finally caught up with him, he was already standing inside the alley. Behind him a thin exhausted cat stood in front of a cardboard box filled with newborn kittens. Despite her weakness she hissed fiercely at the three teenagers in front of her – two boys and a girl. The girl had been poking the kittens with a stick.

German spread his arms wide, blocking the way. Stop. Leave them alone.

One of the boys smirked and shrugged. Well, since you asked so nicely… sure. We’re leaving. Sorry about that.

He jerked his head toward the street as if signaling the others to go. They turned slightly, taking a few lazy steps away. German lowered his arms and exhaled. For a brief moment pride flickered inside him.

Then the same boy spun around and grabbed him by the face.

His fingers dug hard into German’s cheeks while the second boy ripped the glasses from his face and tossed them aside.

Who the hell do you think you are, puppy?
Lost your mind, freak?
You think you can just walk in here and start giving orders? Watched too many superhero movies?

The boy gathered saliva in his mouth and spat directly into German’s face.

The shock was worse than the insult. The spit hit his eye and blurred his vision. Fear exploded through his body. This is hopeless… I’ve never been this scared… I’m going to die.

His body trembled uncontrollably. Warmth spread down his leg before he even realized what had happened. The laughter that followed was merciless.

The boy holding him shoved him away in disgust. Oh hell… look at you. Some hero.

German stood frozen in shame, barely able to breathe, not understanding what would happen next. For a moment he wished he could simply disappear.

The girl quickly understood what had happened. The boy was broken. Perfect.

She picked up the stick again and stepped toward the kittens.

German moved without thinking.

The swing landed hard on his collarbone as he stepped between her and the box. Pain shot through his body, but with his free hand he grabbed the stick and flung it aside.

At that exact moment the second boy drove a brutal kick into his stomach.

The air exploded out of his lungs. German collapsed onto the asphalt, scraping his palms open. Pain pulsed through his hands and ribs. His vision blurred. This is the end.

Even with that thought echoing in his mind, he made one final decision. He curled his body over the box, shielding the kittens beneath him.

The kicks came immediately. One after another into his back while the two boys laughed. The girl grabbed his schoolbag and dumped everything onto the pavement.

A notebook slid out.

She picked it up and flipped it open with a mocking smile. Wow. Our little superhero is also a nerd. Lucky us.

The boys leaned closer as she read aloud: “Soon I’ll be able to control time…”

They burst out laughing.

The girl grinned. What do you think? Maybe we make a deal. We leave the kittens alone… and he does our homework for us.

One of the boys grabbed German by the hair and lifted his head from the ground. So what do you say, genius? You going to help us with our homework?