The bell rang, ending class.
The teacher closed the textbook and dismissed the room.
Students immediately burst into conversation, chairs scraping and bags zipping.
Joren slipped The Illustrated Compendium of Marine Creatures back into his bag and prepared to leave.
A light, quick step stopped beside his desk.
Gwen Stacy.
"Hi, Joren~"
She held a brochure bearing the Science Club emblem.
"I saw your score on the last physics test. It was almost perfect."
"The Science Club is working on a high-energy particle collision project right now. I thought you might be interested."
Joren looked up.
He said nothing.
Gwen shifted slightly under his steady gaze but extended the brochure anyway.
"We meet every Wednesday afternoon in the physics lab. You could—"
"Come on, Gwen."
A voice cut in.
Jessica Jones leaned against a desk nearby, arms crossed, chewing gum. Leather jacket. Cool, unimpressed.
"He's just playing the silent genius act. You really think he's some scientific prodigy? That brooding routine only works on honor students."
Joren glanced at her once, uninterested.
He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked straight between them toward the back door.
"Hey!"
Jessica frowned at being ignored.
Gwen caught her arm.
"Don't."
She turned back toward Joren.
"Joren, wait!"
He did not stop.
"Our next class is sociology. It's in the other building — same direction."
She hurried to keep pace.
Students in the hallway instinctively made way for him.
"Your grades are excellent," Gwen continued. "Why not join a club? It helps with college applications… internships… your future."
Joren walked forward, eyes ahead.
Her voice gradually softened.
They crossed the lawn between buildings.
At the sociology classroom door, she stopped.
"You… you should think about it."
She watched him enter, take his usual seat in the last row by the window.
She sighed softly.
How could someone be this distant?
Maybe Peter could talk to him.
Unaware of this plan, Joren opened his sociology textbook.
The words refused to settle in his mind.
Clubs.
Resumes.
Universites.
Future paths.
These things felt distant — like a life belonging to someone else.
After school
As usual, Joren headed toward the supermarket.
Fresh cod.
Lemons.
Dill.
Dinner: herb-baked cod.
Order.
Predictability.
Back home, he prepared the fish with precise efficiency.
Sea salt.
Black pepper.
Lemon slices layered across the flesh.
Fresh dill arranged evenly.
Into the oven.
Timer set.
He poured water, sat on the sofa, and turned on the television.
Breaking News
"…Breaking news!"
The screen cut to a reporter near the Williamsburg Bridge. Police lights flashed behind her. Sirens wailed.
"Moments ago, a massive unidentified creature appeared on the Williamsburg Bridge, attacking vehicles and causing severe traffic disruption and casualties."
The camera shook.
On screen, a towering reptilian creature covered in green scales rampaged across the bridge.
It flipped a car effortlessly.
Claws screeched across metal.
"My God—!"
The reporter screamed.
Joren watched without expression.
A red-and-blue figure swung into frame.
Peter Parker.
He landed atop the bridge cables and charged forward.
On the screen:
Spider-Man dodged sweeping claws.
Webbing civilians to safety.
Pulling a falling driver back onto the bridge.
Binding the creature's legs before vaulting away from a tail strike.
…At least the talkative nerd was finally being useful.
Joren switched the channel.
A school of sardines fled through silver currents as dolphins pursued them.
Far more interesting.
The oven chimed.
Dinner was ready.
The next morning
Midtown High buzzed with excitement.
"Did you see the news?"
"That giant lizard!"
"Spider-Man saved people!"
"He's amazing!"
Joren moved through the noise untouched.
At his locker, a hand grabbed his arm.
Peter Parker.
He looked exhausted. Dark circles shadowed his eyes.
"Jojo."
He pulled him into the stairwell corner.
"You saw the news last night. The Williamsburg Bridge."
His voice was tight.
"That monster…"
His breathing quickened.
"I think it's Dr. Connors."
Joren remained silent.
He remembered the one-armed scientist at Oscorp.
"During the tour," Peter continued, "Dr. Raman said Connors was researching interspecies genetics — trying to regenerate his missing arm using reptilian DNA."
Peter's voice trembled.
"The creature… its right arm was underdeveloped. Its physiology, strength, behavior patterns — it fits."
"This isn't coincidence."
"I tried contacting Oscorp. No response."
"I have to stop him… before anyone else gets hurt."
Peter looked up, eyes filled with urgency and helplessness.
He knew he could not face something like that alone.
Joren adjusted the brim of his hat.
Fate.
Inevitable and persistent.
He had known this was coming.