Slug doesn’t like it when people fight. He’s just not wired for it. Not that his life is without conflicts, but people only seem to get angry at him, not the other way around. Something about him rubs others the wrong way. He’s not even sure what it is.
So, when Gnat and Shadow start arguing, he reflexively wanders off, to put a bit of distance between himself and their bickering. It’s second nature. There’s always some distraction—a beetle, a fly, or another insect that nobody else notices. A micro world, hidden from everyone's view but his. Yet, when his eyes scan the floor and walls, he finds nothing. That’s strange. This has never happened before. There’s always something. Driven by curiosity, he wanders further, eventually finding himself in front of the rogue wall that had blocked them.
There, he finally sees something move—a black, long-haired caterpillar, Pyrrharctia Isabella, barely visible against the dark tiles. He breathes a sigh of relief. Everything is okay.
"Watch it, pal, somebody might step on you," he whispers to himself, admiring the magnificent way the caterpillar moves. The fact that it seems to take forever is okay; concepts like slow and fast are irrelevant to him. Already, he feels time itself slowing down around him. The distant voices of Gnat and Shadow sound higher and higher until they are barely audible. He loves this feeling when time slowly comes to a halt. It feels like absolute freedom.
He waits in anticipation for the moment when the caterpillar will bend its long, flexible body at a 45-degree angle to continue its journey up the wall. But then his eyes widen in disbelief. The caterpillar doesn’t move up the wall at all. It moves right through it! How? That wall is rock solid—they ran into it only minutes ago. He stares in disbelief at the black bricks, rubbing his eyes. There’s something wrong with his vision—no, it’s the wall itself. It seems to flicker. It appears and disappears in rapid succession. One moment it’s there, the next it’s not. Like an old television screen that continuously flickers but somehow still projects a solid image to the human eye.
It must be because he has slowed time so dramatically. Gnat and Shadow's voices are completely inaudible by now. The wall flickers slower and slower. It’s there... not there... there... not there...
The gaps get longer, and then, without really thinking about it, he closes his eyes and takes a big step forward. When he opens his eyes again, he’s on the other side. He smiles. What an amazing discovery!
And then it’s over. The feeling subsides. The whirlpool of time reverses direction. Sound returns, regaining its normal pitch. Within seconds, the wall is hard and impenetrable again.
There he stands, trapped on the other side, alone and without his friends. The sense of victory evaporates instantly, replaced by a profound feeling of panic. He’s no hero. He wants to be one, he wants to be brave, but he just isn’t. Early in his life, he discovered that evading risks was his greatest talent. So, his first impulse is to find a way back to Shadow and Gnat as quickly as possible, but how? Normally, he would try the passage on the first floor, but to his great dismay, the far end of the corridor is also blocked by a wall that shouldn't be there. Essentially, he's trapped in a tube. This feels completely wrong.
To his relief, the corridor is empty, but... wait... what is that? Yes, there it is again. Something strange is happening with the air, or maybe it's the light. Again... the air seems to light up against the dark wall. Only short flashes, like something is desperately trying to exist but doesn’t quite succeed. Yes, there it is again, longer this time. He thinks he recognizes something but isn’t quite sure what, and then it’s gone. Again. And again. Long enough now for him to recognize that it's a person. Again. It looks like Max, pressed against the opposite wall, her eyes fixed on something above her that he can’t see. And then she’s gone again.
The next time she appears, she seems clearer, more present. Her image still shifts and flickers, but then fully materializes. She’s still looking up, and only now does he notice how the floor, walls, and ceiling are almost entirely destroyed by an enormous web of cracks and fissures. To his astonishment, the web slowly moves toward her, like a lion stalking a cornered antelope. Chunks are already falling down. Everything is about to collapse.
He needs to buy her time, but now, when he needs it most, time doesn’t respond. And he realizes that if Max dies, it will be his fault.
Helplessly pressed against the wall, he can only watch as the ceiling comes down and the floor falls away. The sound of destruction grows louder and louder, escalating from absolute silence to an ear-deafening roar. He closes his eyes to avoid witnessing the inevitable. He presses his hands against his ears, trying not to hear the crushing of his friend’s body.
Everyone always thinks he’s so calm... if they only knew. Inside, he’s a turmoil of emotions and insecurities. The possibility that he might be crushed himself doesn’t even cross his mind; he’s too disgusted with his failure to use his talent to save his friend. But just before they are buried by tons of rubble, he hears another sound. Faint at first, compared to the overwhelming noise of destruction, but gradually growing stronger and stronger. Just one single word: “NO!” It grows louder and louder, harder and harder, without stopping or faltering, slowly filling the entire corridor, drowning out all other noise.
When Max’s voice finally breaks, the corridor is completely silent. Slug is frozen on the spot, his arms still wrapped around his head for protection, his eyes shut tight. Only when he hears a soft groan from the other side of the corridor does he dare to look.
To his surprise, the corridor is completely unscathed. There isn’t a single crack in the walls, ceiling, or floor, and not a splinter is missing from the tiles. Still, Max lies motionless on the floor, looking as if she’s been hit by a truck, but before Slug can take a single step forward to help her, a voice beside him stops him.
“That’s what you call a brave young woman, Mr. Stanislaw.” Slug turns his head, and although it might appear slow to others, he nearly tears a muscle doing so. “No need to get hysterical, Robert,” Williams says with a kind smile, as if he can see right through Slug’s outward calm into the tornado of panic and confusion within. “You just saved your friend from certain death. I doubt she would have been able to pull this off for herself alone. Too many scars, you see. She did it for you.” Slug is totally confused. Saved? That sounded so much better than it actually was.
A sudden draft makes him look over his shoulder. The wall behind him has disappeared, and Shadow and Gnat, both as pale as ghosts, stare at him with wide-eyed shock. After a moment of stunned silence, Gnat begins to speak. “What the f…” But before he can finish, Williams steps forward. In three swift strides, he reaches Max’s motionless body, sinks to his knees, and gently raises her head.