Hello Readers!
here's the next dopamine dose, Enjoy~
(Author's note: Next dose is ready. This one's a slow-burn—best enjoyed without distractions.)
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MBH #17- [The New Beginning] - 3
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"Turn it up!" someone shouted over the morning chatter of the Midtown High student lounge.
On the wall-mounted TV, the WHIH Newsfront anchor's serious face transitioned to a live feed of a plaza in downtown Manhattan. There was no fiery explosion or falling skyscraper—just the messy, tension-filled aftermath of a supposed "mutant attack." Police barricades taped off the shattered entrance of a neighborhood mini-mall, and the small crowd pressing against the yellow tape looked angry.
Sadly, the news cameras weren't focused on the damage. They were focused on the iconic Star-Spangled Avenger, living legend Captain America.
Steve Rogers stood tall in the center of the chaos, flanked by Sam Wilson. Cap was shaking hands with a weary-looking police chief, his face a perfect mask of reassuring authority.
"We are working closely with local law enforcement," Cap's voice came through the TV speakers, steady and calm, instantly cutting through the noise of the crowd.
"It's easy to be afraid right now. I've seen what fear does to people, but the problem isn't the fear—it's what that fear drives us to do. I've watched the world tear itself apart over race, identity, and ideology. This isn't the first time someone has tried to divide us, and it won't be the last. But I still believe in people. I've lived through enough wars to know that hatred only leaves ruins. The only way we overcome this is together, through genuine understanding."
Alex watched from the back of the room, his grip tightening on the strap of his backpack. To the kids cheering around him, it was a moment of hope. But to Alex, it felt like a world being narrated to him. Yet, beneath the rehearsed calm, the raw exhaustion in Cap's voice was real. It carried the weight of a hundred years of war, breaking through Alex's defenses and leaving him with a deep, lingering empathy
But that empathy didn't cloud his judgment. He felt the quiet hum of raw power thrumming beneath his skin, anchoring him to his own reality. Cap might be an honest man fighting a noble battle, but Alex knew how the world actually worked. The system behind the Avengers wouldn't hesitate to put an unknown kid under full surveillance, quietly binding his freedom in the name of security. To the titans on that screen, he wouldn't be treated as an equal or a hero in training; he'd simply be an unstable variable they needed to "handle." It took a strong will to look at Captain America and not fall in line, but Alex held his ground. He respected the heavy burden they carried, but he refused to be swept up in their narrative. He was determined to survive on his own terms.
"It gives you chills, doesn't it?" Cheryl said, leaning against the wall next to Alex. The track team captain shook his head, staring at the screen with total respect. "When Cap talks about getting through the worst of it together... it actually makes you feel like we can. Like we aren't just going to turn on each other."
Alex narrowed his eyes at the screen. He didn't doubt the hero's sincerity, but he questioned the machinery behind it. "It's still PR control," he muttered. "A cover-up."
Cheryl blinked, looking at Alex like he'd just insulted a saint. "What? Bro, did you even listen to him? It's Captain America. What is he covering up?"
"The narrative," Alex replied quietly. "I'm not saying he doesn't mean what he's saying. But look at the timing. The Daily Bugle and the rest of the networks were ready to spin this into a massive mutant witch-hunt today. Suddenly, the Avengers just happen to be in the exact right place to deliver the perfect unifying message? They're running interference. They're giving everyone a legend to focus on so nobody asks the hard questions about what actually happened at that plaza."
Cheryl scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "You read way too many conspiracy threads, man. He's trying to stop a riot, not shoot a commercial. They're just helping."
Before Alex could argue further, the shrill ring of the warning bell pierced the lounge, signaling five minutes until the first period. The crowd of students began to shuffle toward the hallways. Alex let out a breath, adjusting his backpack. He didn't need to win an argument with Cheryl; he just needed to keep his head down.
The walk to the classroom felt like a blur of laughing, clueless students. But Alex's mind was stuck on the broadcast. If the shadow agencies could turn Captain America into a PR puppet, a lone kid with powers was nothing to them. One mistake, and he was done.
He was still lost in his thoughts about the news broadcast when a voice broke his concentration.
"You look lost today. Did something happen?" a voice whispered from his right.
Alex turned. Sitting at the desk next to him was Anya. She was leaning her chin on her hand, studying him with dark, perceptive eyes. She wasn't usually the type to pry, which caught Alex completely off guard. He froze for a second, wondering if his internal panic about his powers and the Avengers was somehow showing on his face.
How was he supposed to explain that he had just watched the world's greatest heroes act as a corporate illusion? The bitter realization felt exactly like the crushing letdown of a childhood lie. Deciding to use a very real, very disappointing memory as a shield, he forced a relaxed, easy smile.
"I saw Santa at Christmas."
Anya stared at him for a beat, processing the completely random response, before a genuine laugh slipped out. "Me too," she grinned, shaking her head. "My neighborhood had dozens of child Santas at Christmas."
"My dad used to say Santa brings the best gifts," Anya continued, keeping her voice low as the history teacher walked to the front of the room and picked up a piece of chalk. "But one Christmas Eve, I stayed up and found my mom sliding my favorite dress beneath my bed. I was so shocked to learn it was all totally made up by people just to fool children."
Alex chuckled, the tension in his chest finally loosening a fraction. "Tell me about it. My uncle did the same thing with a toy, but he's lucky I never caught him. Honestly, once you figure out it's just people putting on a costume to keep everyone happy..." He paused for a fraction of a second, his mind flashing to the recent incident. "...you stop waiting for them to deliver."
Anya blinked, tilting her head. "A bit dark for first period, but sure," she shrugged with an easy, refreshing smile. His weird uncle issues weren't really her problem. "No expectations, no letdowns."
No expectations, no letdowns. It was that simple. The grand illusion of flawless heroes finally evaporated, leaving behind a messy reality he had to navigate alone. And for the first time all morning, Alex felt completely fine with that. An unburdened, steady smile reached his eyes.
"Couldn't have said it better myself."
He leaned back in his chair, glancing at the teacher before looking back at her. "So, I heard about the Chicago museum trip. Do you think it will still go on after the mutant incident downtown?"
Anya rolled her eyes playfully, the heavy atmosphere completely dissipating. "Are you kidding? The school board would rather march us through an active warzone than lose their deposit on those charter buses. It's definitely still on."
"Good," Alex smiled, turning his attention to the front of the room as Mr. Harrison started writing on the chalkboard. A boring, heavily chaperoned out-of-state field trip was exactly what he needed to blend in and play the part of an ordinary teenager.
Then, a sharp, rhythmic vibration buzzed against his chest from the inner pocket of his jacket.
Alex froze. It wasn't his Stark flip-phone. It was Silky. The AI scanner was delivering a high-threat proximity alert for an active anomaly—specifically, an X-Gene or superhuman energy signature. And the pulse indicated the source was less than two feet away.
The "normal kid" mask slipped from his face. He slowly turned his head toward the girl he had just spent the last few minutes treating like a clueless civilian. He searched his mind, matching her face to the endless files of fictional lore he had tried to push aside.
"Anya," he asked, his voice suddenly tight. "What did you say your surname was?"
Anya blinked, her playful smile faltering into genuine confusion by the sudden interrogation. "Corazón" she replied slowly. "Anya Corazón. Why?"