Thoroughly critique the following incomplete draft specifying what changes should be made:

**Chapter 1**

After an eternity of perceived emptiness, John must have lost consciousness. It was a spontaneous decision he had made to meditate, driven entirely by boredom.

*'I feel numb all over. I must have dozed off at some point. I should get up.'* John thought to himself, as he opened his eyes.

Shifting from his cross-legged posture, he stood up and headed towards the door. He unlocked it with care, trying to avoid making any noise.

*'No one seems to have woken up yet,'* he observed as he walked to the bathroom. *'I forgot to check the time, though I think it's dawn,'* he mused.

Lately, he rarely left his room anymore. And as usual, John returned directly to his room after freshening up.

His days were spent entirely in bed, immersed in an endless routine of online distractions. However, today John found himself in a contemplative mood.

"It's been, what, three years?" John winced at how hoarse and cracking his voice sounded from disuse.

"I wonder if the neighborhood has changed." John wondered as he opened the window, casting rays of twilight into the dimly lit room. The cold breeze felt refreshing against his face. This time of day was always his favorite. It felt peaceful, his solitary existence was comforting.

It had been a while since John had made a wish, but as he uttered the words, "If only time could freeze, preserving this moment and the world in its current state," it felt like a heartfelt plea, originating from the depths of his being.

Having long isolated himself in his room, John peered through his blurred vision at the streets and houses, experiencing a mix of familiarity and alienation. The outside world, once irrelevant to him, now seemed slightly altered.

He closed the window but decided to leave the shutters open for a while, until the outside world grew too bright and noisy for his comfort.

John returned to his bed out of habit and opened his laptop, sighing. He resumed his routine absentmindedly, until he noticed that the battery wasn't charging.

"Damn it!" he cursed. After confirming the charger was plugged in correctly, panic crept in. He knew his old laptop was in a sorry state, plagued by a degraded battery and numerous other malfunctions. He also knew this unsustainable lifestyle would force him to change eventually, but he always managed to find a temporary solution.

His despair deepened with each failed attempt; Nothing seemed to work.

To conserve what little battery life remained, he put the computer into hibernation.

"What am I gonna do now?" John mumbled with a heavy sigh.

*'I need to relax and think about it,'* John thought to himself. He closed his eyes and focused on his breath, a technique he had learned from meditation that helped him regain clarity.

*'In the worst-case scenario, I won't be able to use my laptop anymore. I need to talk to my dad about it later; maybe he knows an electronics technician who can help. In the meantime, what can I do?'* He pondered while looking around. His room was cluttered and dusty, showing years of neglect.

*'I guess I can clean the room,'* he thought.

Rearranging the furniture and cleaning every corner took some physical effort and kept John busy for a while, but after he finished and saw the progress he had made, he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

*'What do I do now?'* John wondered, gazing out the window. Some time had passed since he had left the shutters open. It should have been morning by now. But to his surprise, the outside light seemed unchanged—the same fleeting twilight that he had seen earlier, indicating dawn.

John reopened the window and peered at the streets again, slowly adjusting his blurred vision. The street lamps were on, but it was eerily still and quiet. There was no breeze. No birds chirping, and no people or cars passing by.

With a newfound sense of dread, John returned to the door of his room and listened intently. When he heard no movement, he decided to venture out again.

Quietly, he opened the door and slipped past it. His heart thumped in his chest as he made his way to the living room. The wall clock was not ticking as usual. He crept closer, squinting to discern the time in the dimly lit room. The clock hands indicated 5 AM, but they were frozen still.

Determined to investigate further, John reached out his hand. As soon as he touched the clock, a familiar ticking sound filled the space.

*'Perhaps it only needed a little shake?'* Doubting his own words, John couldn't help but let out a sigh as he dropped his hands.

But to his dismay, the wall clock stopped working shortly after.

Pausing briefly, John reached out to the clock once more, this time holding onto it. He noticed a faint warmth spreading from his fingertips to the clock, as if causing it to resume function.

He let go and stepped back, uncertain of how to make sense of this strange occurrence. Yet, he kept feeling the heat emanating from the clock, even from far away. As if to provide further confirmation that the clock was still ticking.

John started to doubt his own senses. He struggled to reconcile today's absurd events with his understanding of the world. He felt an urge to escape growing stronger within him. He considered withdrawing to his room and waiting for the situation to resolve itself. But he felt a stronger sense of urgency, demanding him to unravel this mystery.

**Chapter 2**

John looked back at the currently working clock, could he make it pause again? He closed his eyes and focused on his sixth sense, perceiving the heat being emanated from the clock. And in sync of one of his exhales, he sensed the temperature has dropped. The absence of sound told him that the clock stopped working. But he could still remember the feeling of that distant warmth. He focused on it as he inhaled. And gradually, the warmth of the clock could reach him again. He opened his eyes as the clock began ticking once more.

Although he was still in a state of disbelief, his analytical mind kept processing the new information all the same. He thought that if he was truly capable of influencing the time for the clock, then what more can he do? Could he do the same to other objects? Did it have to be an object in the first place? Could he do the same to a liquid or a gas? a speck of dust or a particle? What was the range of his influence in terms of distance?

After coming up with various experiments and carrying them out, he figured out that it wasn't just the clock, it wasn't just solid objects either. For example, he could pour water out of a bottle and pause the liquid at will, and even single out individual droplets. Though, anything too small proved tricky to experiment with, as it was hard to tell if anything was happening.

After a few hours of experimenting, he noticed himself getting faster and more accurate at affecting the rate of change. So much so that he could make things move in slow motion.