"Hawk, check the data."
"One hundred and eight."
"Hawk, I'm heading to the SL lab—gather the papers on my desk for me."
"No problem."
"Haw—"
This was Hawk's twentieth day working his summer job at Oscorp Industries.
And in all that time, he hadn't once set foot outside the Bio-Electrical Engineering Department. Forget sneaking into Dr. Connors's lab—he hadn't even left the floor.
From clock-in to clock-out it was endless: crunching data, running papers, filing reports.
Still, he wasn't in a rush. Good things came in time, and meanwhile the pay was no joke.
Eight hundred dollars a week. A cafeteria with three daily buffets.
He might have toyed with the idea of robbing a bank last month, but in truth? As long as he could earn clean money, he preferred not to cross that line.
A line he knew, one day, would have to be broken.
Because transmigrators weren't exactly known for stable morals. They tended to see people as NPCs, to walk this world with a cold detachment. Hawk was no exception. Sometimes, watching others, he felt like the only sober man at a table of drunks.
Yet he'd been raised to believe: you don't have to be a good man, but don't be a bad one.
That was why, even with his Microcosmos awakened, he lived modestly. Another transmigrator would have declared themselves a god-king on day two.
But Hawk? Maybe he was simply… kind.
Even if he knew kindness couldn't last forever.
The desk was tidy in minutes, the papers filed neatly away. Then the phone rang.
"I'll get it," Hawk said, beating the others to it.
"Bio-Electrical Engineering Department."
"Hawk?" came a familiar voice.
He raised a brow. "Gwen?"
They hadn't seen each other since she brought him here on his first day. She'd been buried in Connors's lab ever since.
"It's me," Gwen confirmed. "Our lab just had another power surge. Dr. Connors wants someone sent over right away."
"Got it."
Hawk relayed the request. The bald, world-weary supervisor sighed. "Every lab's reporting unstable voltage again. Must be the resistors. We replaced them yesterday… whatever. Hey, you—take Hawk and swap in a new one for Connors's team."
The "you" in question turned out to be Max Dillon.
A quiet, dark-skinned man with a gentle, awkward smile. Honest to a fault, grinding away like an ox while his contributions went unnoticed. If there were an "Unsung Workhorse" award, he'd win it hands down.
Hawk had watched him for twenty days and seen it clearly: Dillon wasn't like the conniving types. He was too simple. Too earnest.
And because of that, even his boss couldn't remember his name.
"Let's go," the supervisor said.
Max went off to the storeroom for parts, while Hawk waited by the door. When Max returned, Hawk nodded to him.
"Mr. Dillon."
Max froze. His eyes widened, trembling faintly. "Y-you… know my name?"
"Of course, Mr. Dillon," Hawk said with a smile.
The man's eyes shone, as if no one had spoken his name in years.
Hawk had no intention of getting too close to the future Electro. But why not earn a little goodwill? To be kind to others was, in the end, to be kind to oneself.
"Come on," Hawk continued, "Connors's lab is waiting."
Max nodded quickly. "Right, right—let's go."
At last. Hawk followed him into the elevator, watching the screen flash upward. Twenty days he had dreamed of this. And now, without forcing it, the opportunity had come to him.
Patience paid. He reminded himself of that, silently reciting it as a lesson.
The elevator chimed.
"Hawk."
Waiting outside was Gwen. Her face lit up when she saw him. "Finally! Connors is already losing his temper."
Before Hawk could answer, she grabbed his sleeve and pulled him toward the lab.
He blinked in surprise—then lifted his gaze toward the door ahead.
His heart stirred.
At last.
…
(End of Chapter)
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