I step into Midtown High and immediately feel it—the pulse again.
Not strong. Not urgent. Just… present.
Like the world itself was aware of me.
Peter, Jake, and Noah are already waiting by the lockers. Peter's fiddling with a gadget again, wires sticking out at odd angles. Jake's bouncing on the balls of his feet like he's trying to outrun the school itself. Noah, of course, is already scanning everyone and everything like a hawk.
"Morning, Ash," Peter says. His voice pulls me back from whatever I was thinking. "You look… rested?"
I force a smile. "Yeah, more or less."
Jake smirks. "Don't tell me you stayed up reading about mutants all night."
Guilty. I shrug. "Maybe a little."
Noah doesn't comment—he just keeps looking around like he's expecting something. And maybe he is. Because the morpher in my bag twitches again, soft but insistent.
I glance down at it. A faint pulse—almost like it's responding to Peter. Not danger. Not threat. Just… recognition.
It's subtle. Nothing I could explain if anyone asked. And no one notices anyway.
We move toward first period. The halls feel… different today. Sharper. Cleaner. Like everything is in focus somehow.
And then I see it.
A black SUV parked across the street. Just sitting there. Engine off. People inside. Too still. Too… watchful.
"Uh…" I whisper to myself. My hand tightens on my bag strap.
Peter looks up at me. "What?"
"Nothing," I lie. "Just… morning paranoia."
Jake nudges me. "Yeah, you and your 'paranoia.'"
I swallow and force a laugh. But the morpher hums again, a soft, almost imperceptible vibration against my palm.
Something is watching.
I push the thought away and focus on school. First period drags by. I try to keep my mind on the teacher, but my eyes keep flicking to the windows. The SUV hasn't moved. Not a single inch.
By lunch, I decide to test something. Just a little nudge.
The morpher pulses gently in my bag as I walk past Peter. The faint warmth spreads like a whisper under my skin.
I glance down. Nothing outward changes. But inside… something shifts. Recognition. Focus.
It's like the morpher knows.
Peter notices my pause. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I say, forcing it. "Just… thinking."
Jake waves me off. "Stop overthinking everything, bro."
But I can't. Not today. Not when I feel that subtle hum whenever Peter is near.
And then, from the corner of my eye… the SUV door opens. Just a crack.
I freeze.
The pulse in my bag spikes for half a second. Not alarm. Not danger. Just… interest.
I know instinctively—though I don't yet understand how—that this isn't random.
S.H.I.E.L.D. has noticed.
It's subtle. Too subtle for anyone else to see. But my instincts—and the Grid humming inside me—know.
I take a slow breath, trying to act normal.
Peter leans over and whispers, "Something up?"
I shake my head. "Nothing. Just… the school feels different today."
Jake groans. "You keep saying that every day. You sound like an old man."
Noah narrows his eyes at the windows. "Old man with good instincts," he mutters, more to himself than anyone else.
And for the first time, I realize: even without seeing the agents, even without knowing exactly what they want, I feel the tension. Midtown isn't just a school. Not today.
Something's coming.
And my life—our lives—are about to get a lot more complicated.
The morpher hums again. A whisper. Not yet. But soon.
I tighten my grip on my bag. Tomorrow, school will feel even sharper. The quiet pulse in my chest promises it.
And somewhere in the back of my mind, a single thought takes root:
I'm ready. I think.