The alarm on my wrist buzzed—a ridiculous device humans called a "smartwatch." It screamed at me for being late, as if I had a single reason to follow their pointless schedules.
I glanced around the small apartment I rented, making sure nothing betrayed my true identity. One wrong move, and the humans outside wouldn't know what hit them. Or me.
Breakfast. Humans seemed obsessed with it. Eggs, toast, milk. I stared at the toaster for a moment, wondering if it could be crushed with my bare hands. Instead, I did the expected thing: I buttered the toast, smiled politely at my reflection, and whispered to myself, "Act normal, act normal, act… painfully normal."
And then he appeared.
Lieutenant Calder—or, as humans would insist on calling him, "seriously nosy neighbor"—stood by the elevator, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed. Somehow, he always looked like he was solving crimes, though I hadn't committed any… yet.
"Morning," I said, trying to sound cheerful. My voice probably came out slightly too flat. Humans never could get the tone right.
He tilted his head, scrutinizing me as if I had just grown horns or six extra eyes. "Good morning," he replied, but his eyes lingered longer than polite conversation required.
That was the problem with humans: they noticed everything.
I bit my lip, forcing a laugh. "You look… well-rested today."
He frowned. "I think you mean… suspiciously alert?"
Ah. The subtle human humor. So they could insult without swearing. I filed that away. Learning opportunity.
Inside, I twitched a claw—I mean, my hand—just enough to remember my true form simmering beneath this fragile skin. A queen of billions, ruler of a swarm civilization, hiding among creatures that could barely manage toast.
Yet, here I was, pretending to be one of them.
And the most dangerous thing? Lieutenant Calder seemed to be… enjoying the mystery.