"Leo, don't touch that thermostat!"
Leo's hand froze. His fingers hovered over the cheap, beige plastic slider.
The heating element clicked on. In this house, it was as loud as a gunshot.
"It's sixty-five degrees in here, Mom," he said, trying to sound casual. "It's freezing."
"Then put on a sweater," his mother, Sharon, called from the kitchen. Her voice was tight with stress.
"You know your father is checking the bill like a hawk. We can't afford you deciding to live in a sauna."
Leo pulled his hand back, feeling impatient. Sauna.
In his last life, his bathroom was warmer than this. His old room was always perfectly climate-controlled. Here, 68 degrees was a luxury.
He grabbed a faded, dark blue hoodie from his chair. It was old and soft. He pulled it on, grimacing at the frayed cuffs.
Cashmere. He missed cashmere.
"Mornin', loser."
His sister, Anna Marie, slid into the seat opposite him. She had messy auburn hair and was still half-asleep.
"Fox," he replied. He reached across the table to ruffle her hair, a move he knew she hated.
"Get off!" she grumbled, batting his hand away, but she was smiling.
He smiled back. The impatience vanished, replaced by genuine affection.
His old family had "loved" him as an extension of their legacy. Their breakfasts had been silent and formal.
Here, breakfast was chaos.
His mom, Sharon, was at the counter with her coffee, circling items in a grocery flyer. His dad, Owen, was already gone for his early construction shift.
"I swear, Leo," Sharon sighed, clicking her red pen. "The price of eggs is going to send me to an early grave."
Leo nodded, eating his generic cornflakes.
The real him would have offered to buy the whole grocery chain. The new Leo knew to keep his mouth shut. This struggling life was temporary.
He was a transmigrator. He'd died in a stupid sports car accident and woken up here as a baby.
He'd seen the famous Stark on the news. He knew what this world was: mutants, aliens, and gods.
This world was a comic book, and he was a protagonist. His "cheat," his "system," his X-Gene... it was just running late.
So he waited. Patiently.
He finished his breakfast, dropped his bowl in the sink, and gave his mom a kiss on the cheek. "See ya later, Mom."
"Be good!"
"I'm always good," he said, flashing an easy smile.
"Your ego's gonna need its own zip code," Anna called out, grabbing her backpack.
"can't help it, my presence is just too damn strong" he shot back, holding the front door open for her.
The walk to the bus stop was cold. He hunched inside the thin hoodie.
He watched Anna chatter about a test, her breath pluming in the air.
He doted on her. She was the one part of this life he wouldn't trade. She was his sister, in a way no one from his past life had been.
As they rounded the corner, a pickup truck hit a patch of icy slush. It sent a tidal wave of gritty, freezing water straight at them.
Leo's reaction was instant. He grabbed Anna and spun, putting his back to the spray.
The icy shock hit him, soaking his jeans and hoodie.
His first instinct was rage. He wanted to find that driver and crush his truck.
"Ugh! Gross!" Anna shrieked, wiping mud off her face. She looked up at him, his back completely soaked. "Leo, you're... dripping."
The rage vanished. He looked at her, mostly dry, and laughed. "C'mon, swamp thing. We'll miss the bus."
He slung a damp arm around her shoulder. As they walked, he glanced down at his hand.
It was just a hand. Reddened from the cold and smeared with grit.
No blue fur. No laser-eyes. No pop-up notification.
Nothing.
Leo sighed internally.
Any day now.
He just had to keep playing the part of Leo, the normal kid. This wasn't his real life. It was just the prologue.