Queens, New York – Early October 2011
Rowan – 2:17 AM
I woke up choking on the dark.
Not from a dream. Not from fear.
From the Force.
It twisted around me like cold smoke, whispering in a language I couldn't translate but felt in my spine. My skin prickled. My breath caught. I sat up in bed, eyes scanning the shadows of my apartment like they'd rearranged themselves while I slept.
They had.
Not physically.
Spiritually.
[System Warning: Presence Detected – Force-Signature Unknown]
Status: Observing
Alignment: Unstable (Obsession-tier readings)
"A mirror walks behind you. Her heart beats for you... and ends you."
That last line wasn't code. It was poetry. Worse — it felt personal.
I rubbed the sleep from my face and stood, letting the cold floor ground me. Bucky stirred on the couch but didn't wake. He'd gotten used to my night wandering by now. I didn't dare tell him what I felt out there.
Because I wasn't sure yet.
Only that it had a pulse.
And that it pulsed for me.
Later that Morning — Midtown High
"You look like death," Peter said, walking beside me in the hallway.
"Thanks. Just what I needed before algebra."
Ned leaned in with a mock-serious nod. "Haunted eyes. Tight shoulders. Reeks of tragic backstory."
"I am the tragic backstory," I muttered.
They laughed, but the mood in my head didn't lift. I scanned every corner of the hallway. Lockers. Cameras. Windows. People. Nothing stood out… and yet—
The Force didn't lie.
It was coiled around me like a predator's tail.
Not aggressive.
Not violent.
Watching.
We met up with Harry during free period. He had that effortless rich-kid cool, but there was a sharpness behind the charm. Kid had secrets. Probably a few he didn't even know about yet.
"You good, Skywalker?" Harry asked, flipping his phone in one hand.
"Yeah."
"No, he's not," Peter said. "He's in one of his 'brooding anime protagonist' moods."
I blinked. "You don't even watch anime."
"Exactly," Peter said. "Which means I speak for the audience."
I almost smiled. Almost.
After School – Rooftops of Queens
The wind was sharper than usual. Carrying the scent of city heat and something metallic. I took to the rooftops after class, trying to burn off the feeling crawling up my spine.
It didn't work.
Every alley I passed felt touched. Every flicker of motion in a window made me turn my head. The rooftops themselves felt watched.
The worst part?
It didn't feel hostile.
It felt… yearning.
Subject Zero – Observing from Afar
She had never felt him this clearly before.
Not even in Berlin. Not even in the lab.
Here, in the webbed arteries of this living city, Rowan's soul shone like fire under ice. And she followed it like a moth to flame. No disguise. No cloak. Just silence and rooftop shadows.
He moved like he was trying to escape gravity.
So strong already.
But so lonely.
Let them laugh with him. Touch his hand. Speak his name.
She would take it back.
All of it.
Rowan – 7:42 PM
I stopped on the edge of an old rooftop near the river. The city glowed in the distance. Bucky was off doing recon, checking out a lead on stolen SHIELD gear.
I was alone.
Except I wasn't.
The Force screamed again — not in sound, but sensation. Like gravity in reverse. Like the wrong chord in a symphony.
"Who's there?" I said aloud.
Nothing.
Then—
A pebble clinked behind me.
I turned. Nothing.
But the air was warmer now. Closer. Breathing.
And then I heard her.
Not with my ears.
With my mind.
"Do you miss me yet?"
The voice wasn't angry. It wasn't mocking.
It was intimate.
And hungry.
Rowan – Rooftop, Queens – 7:43 PM
You ever get the feeling that the wind knows something you don't?
No?
Just me?
Okay. So here's the vibe: I'm standing alone on a rooftop, no weapons, no backup, and the Force is buzzing in my skull like an angry wasp. Pretty standard evening, really.
"Who's there?" I asked. Again.
(Yeah, I know. Classic horror movie line. Next I'll be checking the basement and tripping over a flashlight.)
But I wasn't exactly scared.
Annoyed? Yes.
Creeped out? Slightly.
Weirdly flattered? …Unfortunately also yes.
Then came the whisper. Not in my ears — in my head. Which is objectively worse.
"Do you miss me yet?"
That voice. Smooth as smoke. All velvet and teeth.
"Oh great," I muttered. "My stalker ex-who-was-never-my-ex found me. Awesome."
Cue dramatic music. Cue creepy vibes. Cue Force-user with boundary issues.
I turned slowly, feeling the pressure build behind me. Not like someone was going to attack.
More like someone was going to confess their love and then attack.
My foot scraped the gravel just enough to mask a quick Force push outward — a test. A pulse. The feedback I got was...
Sharp. Hot. Familiar.
"You really don't know how to take a hint, do you?" I said, louder now.
A silhouette darted behind a rooftop vent ahead of me. Too fast to see clearly, but I caught a glimpse — not her face, but her form.
Female. Agile. Watching me like I was dessert.
Of course.
Subject Zero.
She was here.
And she was playing with me.
"Look, if this is about Berlin," I called, "I'm not mad. You stabbed a few people, ruined my life, tried to convert me into your Force cult — I mean, that's just Tuesday for me now."
No answer. Just another flicker of motion — right behind me this time.
I spun, dropped into a stance (you know, the kind that feels cool even when you're unarmed), and reached into the Force.
Still no lightsaber. Still not time. (Looking at you, "Jedi Rising" arc.)
Instead, I focused on raw momentum — the kind that could rip a fire escape off a wall if I wasn't careful.
Another flicker.
Then a whisper — so close to my ear I nearly fell off the damn building.
"You're not scared of me."
My heart skipped.
Because she was right.
I wasn't scared of her.
But I probably should be.
Subject Zero POV – Above Rowan, Four Stories Up
She crouched in silence, heart thudding like war drums.
He was beautiful like this. Guarded. Alert. Dangerous.
Hers.
She didn't want to hurt him. Not yet.
She wanted him to feel her. To realize he was never not hers.
Every step he took tonight, she'd already walked in her mind a thousand times.
She reached out with the Force, not to strike — but to touch.
A single whisper of intent. Enough to brush against his consciousness like fingers on skin.
He flinched.
She smiled.
Rowan – Still on the Rooftop, Still Annoyed
Okay, this was getting ridiculous.
"I'm flattered," I said to the empty skyline, "but if you're goanna stalk me, at least bring snacks. Or, I don't know, a dramatic ultimatum?"
Silence.
"Nothing? No evil monologue? No 'join me and we'll rule the galaxy'? I practiced for that, you know."
Still nothing.
But the tension shifted.
Then a bolt of... something — call it Force lightning's little cousin — zapped a pipe near my foot and exploded in sparks.
Reflex kicked in.
I dove behind the nearest vent, rolled, and launched a Force wave outward.
It blew dust and pebbles across the rooftop in a wide arc, and for half a second, I saw her.
Dark hair. Half-mask. Sharp eyes.
And that smile.
That obsessed, possessive smile.
"Peekaboo," I muttered. "She is into me."
She vanished again.
No noise. No footsteps.
But not gone.
No, this wasn't over.
My instincts screamed move, and I leapt just as a steel pipe flew past my head with enough force to impale a fire hydrant.
I hit the gravel in a slide, pivoted, and sent out a concentrated Force push — low and tight.
It clipped something.
A shadow hissed and retreated into the dark.
I stood, breathing hard. My hands tingled from channeling too much raw energy too fast.
Still no lightsaber.
Still alive.
"Okay," I muttered. "So she's not goanna kill me."
Another whisper on the wind:
"Not tonight."
System Update
You have survived a psychic brush with Subject Zero.
Threat Level: Complicated
Relationship Status: "It's Not That Simple"
+1 Trait Unlock Progression: "Sympathy for the Chaos"
Mission Fragment Unlocked:
Trial of the Second Mirror
Objective: Understand the one who follows.
Reward: ???
Rowan – Later, in the Apartment
Bucky came home to find me on the floor, meditating in silence.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Had a moment," I said.
"What kind of moment?"
"The creepy kind. The 'someone watched me from the shadows and might be in love with me' kind."
He sighed, cracked a beer, and muttered, "Welcome to New York."
Queens – SHIELD Mobile Observation Van, 9:21 PM
Agent Klein adjusted the thermal optics, then cursed under his breath.
"Again. Static. Same rooftop. Twice in a week."
His partner, Agent Yu, looked up from the biometric scanner. "Is it the kid?"
"Maybe. But there's someone else now. Look—" he pointed at the flickering thermal trail.
It danced like fire one second, vanished the next.
Too fast. Too clean. Not teleportation. Not speed.
Something else.
Yu leaned forward. "This doesn't feel like a meta. Feels... calculated. Intimate."
Klein tapped his comm. "Control, this is Unit 3. We've got movement in Zone D-7. Suspected meta-human contact. One is the Berlin asset. Second unknown—possibly enhanced."
A pause.
Then the voice of Agent Hill crackled back:
"Maintain distance. Do not engage. This might be bigger than SHIELD."
Yu looked at Klein. "What the hell does that mean?"
Klein didn't answer.
Because deep down, he already knew.
Outside Rowan's Apartment – 10:06 PM
She sat on the rooftop across the street, crouched beside an old AC unit, her face lit only by the flickering red neon of a Chinese restaurant below.
Inside the third-floor window, he moved. Laughing. Drying his hair with a towel. The Force shimmered faintly around him, golden and wild, like embers caught in a storm.
Subject Zero didn't blink.
Didn't move.
She watched.
Not out of strategy. Not for recon.
She watched because it was all she could do to keep from touching.
One step closer, and she'd tear through the walls just to reach him.
But she wouldn't. Not yet.
He wasn't ready.
But he would be.
Westchester – Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters – Cerebro Chamber
Professor Charles Xavier sat alone in the chrome silence, his mind adrift across the surface of the world.
So many voices. Too many. Mutants being born. People afraid. Governments whispering behind closed doors.
And then—
Pain.
Fire.
A heartbeat pulsing like thunder beneath the fabric of thought.
He gasped, pulling back from the scan. But the echo remained.
Two minds.
Burning. Chaotic.
One grounded in fury and fear.
The other in longing so sharp it could shatter time.
Charles opened his eyes slowly. "It's, Cheese-Wizz?."
Rowan – Window View, 10:20 PM
I stood by the window with the curtain barely drawn, staring at the skyline like it might whisper an answer back.
"Still feel her?" Bucky asked from the couch.
"Yeah," I said. "Like a bad romance song playing on loop in my skull."
He grunted. "You sure she's not a threat?"
"Oh, she's absolutely a threat."
"Then why aren't we leaving?"
I didn't answer right away.
Because part of me didn't want to run.
"She wants something," I finally said. "But she doesn't know what. And until she figures it out... I think I have the upper hand."
I paused.
Then added: "Also, if she kills me, it'll be offscreen. That's just lazy writing."
Bucky stared at me like I'd grown a second head.
"Never mind," I said. "Long day."
[To Be Continued…]
Up next in Chapter 7:
Rowan's paranoia grows after another strange encounter during a Midtown field trip.
Peter begins noticing things.
Subject Zero starts communicating directly — but still in secret.
And someone else... begins to take notice of Rowan: a girl with a barbequed chicken-?