Marvel: The Awakened One

”It’s Peter, isn’t it?”

”...”

In the middle of physics class.

Hawk glanced at the words on the note that had been slid onto his desk, a single eyebrow arching. He looked over at Gwen, who was sitting next to him.

Gwen just gave him a pointed look, her eyes flicking to the note.

Hawk offered a small, noncommittal smile and slid the note back to her.

He wasn’t confirming anything.

Gwen figuring it out on her own was one thing. Him admitting it was another.

Just as he’d said before: he wasn’t going to betray Peter’s secret, just as Peter hadn’t betrayed his.

...

After class ended, Gwen walked with Hawk down the hall toward their lockers, her mind still turning over Spider-Man’s identity.

It had to be Peter.

Hawk’s social circle was practically nonexistent. And then there was Peter’s own transformation—from a perennial victim to someone who could suddenly stand up for himself.

Most of the students just assumed it was because he had started training with Hawk.

That was how the rumor that Peter was Hawk’s only friend had started.

But Gwen knew better.

She knew for a fact that Peter’s newfound strength hadn’t come from training with Hawk, and that was precisely why she was still hesitant.

It felt too simple.

It was like a slacker and a genius taking the same test.

The slacker sees a question, thinks, ’Oh, I know this one, it’s A,’ and fills in the bubble without a second thought.

But the genius looks at the same obvious answer and pauses, thinking:

Is this a trick question?

That was Gwen’s dilemma.

She was almost certain Spider-Man was Peter, but without seeing it with her own eyes, she couldn’t be 100% sure.

A moment later, Hawk opened his locker, tossed his physics book inside, and pulled out his backpack.

”I’m heading to Mrs. Snow’s office.”

”Okay.”

Gwen, who had just grabbed her own bag, nodded. ”I’ll go to the library and wait for you there.”

Hawk grunted in agreement, slung his bag over his shoulder, and headed for the administration building.

The weekend was tomorrow, but Monday was the 10th. If he wanted to take the day off, he had to request it today. Asking for it on Monday morning would be asking for forgiveness, not permission.

Gwen, meanwhile, walked toward the library.

Tomorrow was the Homecoming dance. She had to meet with the planning committee and finalize the details.

She wasn’t actually going to the dance herself.

For her, studying had always been more important. But as the grade’s student aide, she was still responsible for making sure it all went smoothly.

Although she and Hawk hadn’t made their relationship public, she found herself wanting him to be her prom date this year.

She just didn’t know if he would say yes.

He might. Maybe. Hopefully?

She thought, a hint of uncertainty in her mind.

Just as Hawk and Gwen went their separate ways in the crowded hallway—one heading for the offices, the other for the library—something was stirring deep beneath their feet.

...

Down below.

In the filthy, reeking, slime-coated sewers, the sound of reptilian hissing grew louder. A massive, lizard-like creature surged through the wastewater like an Olympic swimmer, then, with a great splash, launched itself out of the muck and onto a concrete platform at a four-way intersection of pipes.

”Midtown High.”

”Gwen Stacy.”

”Capture her. Use her against Hawk.”

”Hsssssssss.”

The words burned into his mind like a demonic whisper. The Lizard, now fully transformed, swept its reptilian eyes across the area while its forked, scarlet tongue flicked out to taste the air.

It caught a scent.

With a guttural roar, it shot forward like a blur, diving into another sewer pipe. It scrambled on all fours like a true reptile, racing through the filthy tunnel toward Midtown High... and the student bathrooms.

...

A freshman, new to the trials of high school, was sitting on a toilet, scrolling through his phone.

Suddenly—

The kid, his face dotted with the acne of adolescence, felt something wrong.

The ground was trembling. An inexplicable, cold draft was rising from below, chilling him in a place the sun didn’t shine.

The freshman was confused.

”What the hell?”

”An earthq—”

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

A powerful force erupted from below, launching him and the entire toilet upwards and out of the stall.

CRASH!!!!

The kid, still attached to his porcelain throne, landed in a heap on the bathroom floor, completely stunned.

The few other students in the bathroom stared, frozen, at the boy who had just been shot out of the stall like a cannonball.

But their shock quickly turned to terror.

In the now-doorless stall, the floor was cracking apart. A green, scaled claw shot up, its talons striking sparks against the ceramic tiles.

The next second.

HIIISSSSSSS!

The Lizard hauled itself out of the hole in the floor. It stood tall, spread its arms wide, and let out a triumphant roar, announcing its arrival.

”Thwip!”

...

”Huh?”

Peter, who had just finished his chemistry class and was back at his locker, suddenly looked down at his arm. The hairs were standing straight up.

Before he could even process what was happening, a series of terrified screams shattered the calm of the hallway.

”AAAAH!”

”OH MY GOD, IT’S THE LIZARD!”

”RUN!!”

”MOMMY, I DON’T WANNA GO TO SCHOOL ANYMORE!!!”

The bathroom door burst open. The students from inside came sprinting out, their faces masks of pure terror, shouting warnings as they fled in Peter’s direction.

Bringing up the rear was the kid from the stall, still fumbling with his unfastened pants.

He was too scared to even notice.

It was clear he was traumatized. He probably wouldn’t be able to use a public restroom alone for a very long time.

Just as the other students in the hall turned to look at the commotion—

BOOOOOOOOOOM!

The entire wall of the bathroom exploded outwards.

And the Lizard’s monstrous form was revealed to everyone.

”Holy shit!”

”It’s the Lizard!”

”...”

--

After a few days of quiet, the Lizard—a topic that had already started to fade from student gossip, made a dramatic return.

Most students had been fascinated by the news reports, eagerly discussing every detail about the creature. But now, with the Lizard standing right in front of them, their reaction was universally, predictably, the same.

Screams.

Panic.

In an instant, the peaceful quiet of the student lounge was shattered.

But...

A short distance away, in the main administration building, it was still a picture of tranquility.

The staff here were completely unaware of the chaos unfolding outside.

Especially in Mrs. Snow’s office.

Mrs. Snow wasn’t surprised by Hawk’s request to leave early. He took a personal day on September 10th every year.

This time was no different.

Hawk, having gotten his absence excused, was about to leave when Mrs. Snow called out to him.

He stopped at the door and turned back.

Mrs. Snow was smiling. ”So, I hear you and Gwen are together now?”

”Yeah.”

”That’s wonderful. I’m so glad you finally listened to your heart.”

Her voice was filled with genuine happiness.

If Gwen could see the invisible wall Hawk used to put up, then of course Mrs. Snow—who had seen more of life than Hawk had seen of the world, could see it too.

But unlike Gwen, Mrs. Snow saw the whole picture. After all, she knew Hawk just as well as she knew Gwen. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have thought to look for Gwen whenever Hawk went missing.

So, her tone became wistful. ”I was starting to think you two would never get past that awkward stage before graduation. But I’m curious, who made the first move?”

Hawk looked at his suddenly gossipy, but clearly caring, guidance counselor. He thought for a moment.

”Gwen did.”

”That’s what I figured.” Mrs. Snow nodded, then smiled warmly at Hawk. ”Hawk, there’s some advice I’ve been wanting to share with you. I was saving it for your graduation.”

She paused, her expression kind. ”There is no shame in a humble beginning. True strength lies in being able to bend without breaking. I was going to give that to you at graduation if you hadn’t changed, but it seems you don’t need it anymore.”

Just as she’d said, she understood Gwen, and she understood Hawk.

Hawk listened to her words and gave a sincere nod. ”Thank you.”

Mrs. Snow then added, ”Can I offer you one more piece of advice, Hawk?”

He nodded. ”Of course.”

He couldn’t speak for other students, but his guidance counselor was one of the best. Her concern for him was real, and he always took her advice seriously.

Mrs. Snow smiled.

”Prom.”

”Huh?” Hawk raised an eyebrow.

”I know you don’t like those kinds of things,” she said, ”but prom is different. If you can, you shouldn’t miss it. And of course, take your date. That way, years from now, when you look back on your high school experience, it won’t just be an empty space. Right?”

Going to prom with Gwen?

That actually sounded...

Pretty good.

As Mrs. Snow spoke, an image of the prom flashed in Hawk’s mind.

A handsome couple.

Music and dancing.

Limos and champagne.

Ugh...

Hawk snapped back to reality, pushing the thought aside. He gave Mrs. Snow a genuine smile. ”Okay, Mrs. Snow. I’ll think about it.”

Satisfied with his answer, she smiled back.

Hawk was about to leave for good.

But just then.

BAANG!!!

The office door flew open. A staff member poked his head in, his voice frantic. ”There’s an emergency! We have to go, NOW!”

Mrs. Snow froze.

Hawk’s brow furrowed.

...

One minute later.

Hawk emerged from the administration building and stopped, staring at the scene unfolding in the distance. Students were pouring out of the emergency exits of the main school building in a panicked flood.

What the hell?

Is there a school shooting at Midtown now?

”Run!”

”It’s the Lizard! He’s here! Run!”

”Students, this way!”

The Lizard? Hawk caught the word of the fastest runner. He immediately opened up his senses, which he normally kept suppressed.

If he didn’t, the constant sensory overload would drive him insane.

The moment he did, the sounds from inside the school building flooded in—screams, guttural roars, the sounds of fighting, and the telltale thwip of a web-shooter.

...

”Thwip!”

”CRASH!”

In the middle of the chaos, Peter, who had quickly changed in a bathroom, was in the thick of a fight. The Lizard caught him with a vicious swipe of its claws, hurling him across the hall. The claws also snagged Peter’s backpack, ripping it from his shoulders.

”Peter!”

”Parker!”

The Lizard’s eyes fell on the name tag on the backpack. A flicker of recognition crossed its reptilian face. It looked up at Peter, who was already getting to his feet after crashing into a wall. ”Peter Parker? The boy with no mother, and no father?”

Peter didn’t answer. He just charged forward again.

But the Lizard’s tail shot out, wrapped around a row of lockers, and swung them like a club, slamming into Peter and sending him flying.

Thump!

Thump!

Thump!

Peter hit the ground and tumbled hard, smashing through the main entrance doors and rolling out onto the lawn.

With a furious roar, the Lizard’s massive frame tore the rest of the doorway apart as it burst outside.

The next second.

Before the Lizard could even steady itself, Peter planted his hands on the grass, launched himself into the air, and delivered a powerful kick that slammed into the creature’s side like a cannonball, sending it flying back into the school building.

The sounds of fighting and shattering walls erupted from inside once again.

Hawk was already running toward the library.

He didn’t know why the Lizard had shown up at Midtown, but it wasn’t his problem.

Peter was on the scene. He could handle it.

As Hawk entered the library, he immediately spotted Gwen, who was hurrying down from the second floor with a crowd of other students.

”Gwen!”

”Hawk!”

She saw him and rushed to meet him at the bottom of the stairs. ”What’s happening?”

Hawk was about to answer.

CRASH!

He instinctively looked up.

The Lizard crashed through the second-floor window with Peter clinging to its back, webs wrapped tight around its massive frame. It paid him no attention.

And then, with its claws outstretched, it lunged straight down at Hawk and Gwen.

--

The monstrous Lizard.

A dangling Spider-Man.

And a dumbstruck Gwen.

Hawk didn’t have time to think. He grabbed Gwen, but in that same instant, a realization hit him. He yanked her back, pulling her into his arms and spinning on the spot, turning his own back toward the Lizard.

CRACK!

The Lizard’s claws slammed into Hawk’s back with the force of a falling boulder, knocking him clean off the staircase.

In mid-air, Hawk twisted again, taking the impact as his back crashed into a bookshelf below.

The shelf splintered into pieces.

It all happened in a flash. By the time anyone else reacted, the library was filled with a new wave of screams as students scrambled for the exit.

”Hawk!”

The Lizard, perched on the stairs like a true monster, let a low growl rumble in its throat as it stared down at Hawk, who was already getting to his feet. ”Blood... Give it to me!”

Okay. So he’s here for me.

Hawk, who felt nothing from the blow other than some dust on his now-disheveled clothes, made a mental note. He instinctively glanced at Gwen, who was also snapping out of her shock. ”Are you hurt?”

He was curious about something, though.

If the Lizard was after him, why did that last attack seem like it was aimed directly at Gwen?

It wasn’t just a feeling. It was an instinct. If the Lizard had been aiming for him, it wouldn’t have even come close. To think otherwise would be an insult to the two and a half years of brutal training he’d endured.

Hawk’s first impulse had been to grab Gwen and exit the scene at supersonic speed.

But the moment he considered it, a series of consequences flashed through his mind.

Gwen’s body wouldn’t be able to withstand the sudden g-force. The g-force would crush her like an invisible hand.

Or the fatal air resistance would have torn her apart.

His body was built for supersonic movement—Gwen’s wasn’t. That was why he had changed his plan in that split second, choosing to absorb the Lizard’s attack instead.

It had nothing to do with not wanting to expose his powers in front of his classmates.

He wasn’t afraid of being exposed.

And he certainly wasn’t interested in playing dumb to get the upper hand.

Even when he robbed the Quantico base, the most he’d done for a disguise was wear a hoodie and a surgical mask. He hadn’t even worn gloves. If the military had done a thorough investigation, they probably could have found him.

After all, he hadn’t worn any disguise when he’d scouted the place during the day. A simple check of security footage and some motion tracking would be enough to get a match.

In short:

If he wasn’t afraid of being exposed to the United States military, he sure as hell didn’t care about a bunch of students.

He just didn’t want Gwen to get hurt.

Gwen, who had now fully recovered from the shock, instinctively shook her head.

”I’m fine,” she said, before her eyes suddenly widened in alarm.

”Look out!”

WHOOSH!

Hawk threw a punch.

The sheer force of the air pressure slammed into the desk the Lizard had flung with its tail, and the desk disintegrated in mid-air.

”Be careful. He’s incredibly strong!” The warning came from Peter, who was now clinging to the wall like an actual spider.

To be more precise, the Lizard was absurdly strong.

If the Lizard’s strength on the Williamsburg Bridge had been a 1, its strength now was a 3.

Fortunately, Peter healed fast. But while he knew Hawk was strong, he’d never actually seen him fight. Seeing that Hawk was about to jump in, he had to give him a warning.

The voice Peter was using wasn’t his own. Compared to his normal voice, this one was deeper, more guttural.

The change was enough to make Gwen glance up for a second, but she quickly turned back to Hawk and nodded.

”You be careful.”

”I will.” Hawk gave her a reassuring smile.

Gwen turned, ready to run for cover.

But the instant she turned her back, the Lizard’s pupils contracted. It kicked off the stairs, launching itself through the air—once again, straight at Gwen.

”Holy shit!”

”You’re dead!”

The first line was from Peter. Seeing the attack, he dug his hands and feet into the wall and fired two streams of webbing, which latched onto the airborne Lizard’s back, halting its forward momentum for a fraction of a second.

The second line was from Hawk.

Seeing the Lizard try to kill Gwen right in front of him, his voice turned to ice.

The next second.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

A sonic boom ripped through the library. Hawk vanished from his spot, reappearing in the air directly in front of the Lizard. He threw a single, almost casual punch that landed squarely on the creature’s chest.

CRACK!

The Lizard’s chest caved in, instantly exposing the mutated heart within. His body shot backward like a kite with its string cut, a brutal shriek tearing from its throat.

Peter was sent flying with him.

His two web lines were still attached to the Lizard’s back. The force of Hawk’s punch pulled him from the wall, and he let out a startled yell as he was dragged along for the ride.

Luckily, he reacted instantly, severing the web lines. He did a quick flip in mid-air, and all four limbs slapped against the library ceiling, absorbing the momentum.

The Lizard was not so fortunate.

CRASH!

CRASH!

CRASH!

It flew backward, plowing through an entire row of bookshelves on the second floor. With a final, thunderous series of impacts, its back slammed into the far wall. The wall spiderwebbed with cracks, finally stopping its momentum.

It had all happened in the blink of an eye.

After sending the Lizard flying, Hawk reappeared next to Gwen. ”Are you okay?”

Gwen just stared, shaking her head numbly. Her mind was stuck on the image of the airborne monster lunging at her.

Peter dropped from the ceiling, landing on the wrecked second floor amidst the shattered bookshelves and cracked floorboards. He saw the state the Lizard was in.

He stared.

The Lizard’s chest was completely caved in. Shards of its own ribs were embedded in its exposed, mutated heart.

The heart was still beating—thump-thump—but the rhythm was slowing, and the creature’s green scales were visibly fading back to pale skin.

One punch...

--

By the time Hawk and Gwen made it to the second floor, the Lizard was gone.

In its place was Dr. Connors, reverted to his human form. But the wound in his chest remained—a gaping, irreversible injury.

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, but as he saw Hawk approaching, he forced a painful smile.

”Thank you!”

”...” Hawk said nothing, just raised an eyebrow as he looked at the dying man.

Gwen, however, was still trying to understand. ”Doctor, why did you try to kill me?”

She couldn’t make sense of it.

If Connors was angry about what happened on the Williamsburg Bridge, he should have been after Spider-Man.

If he was after blood, he should have gone after Hawk.

Why her?

Leaning against the wall, completely drained of strength, Connors let out a weak, wheezing laugh.

The movement made his chest heave, and a flush of red spread across his pale face. He coughed up blood, his breathing growing dangerously shallow. As his eyes began to flutter shut for the last time, Dr. Connors whispered his final words.

”I don’t know.”

”I think...”

”The devil made me do it.”

”I’m... so...”

”...sorry.”

Thud.

With that final, strained apology, his eyes closed completely. His lone left arm slapped against the floor with a hollow, final sound.

Dr. Connors was dead.

Hawk’s gaze shifted from the body to Peter standing nearby.

”Are you going to leave or what?”

Peter, who was still reeling from the shock of seeing Connors killed with a single punch, snapped back to reality. ”What about you?”

”The Spider-freak killed him. What’s that got to do with me?”

”I’m not a ’spider-freak.’”

”Then the webs...”

”I’m leaving!”

Peter cut the conversation short. He turned, fired a web, and swung through the air, shattering the glass of the skylight with the tip of his boot before disappearing from sight.

Just then, Gwen’s eyes went wide. ”The security cameras!”

She grabbed Hawk’s arm and started pulling him toward the library’s security office downstairs.

”Don’t worry. They didn’t see anything.”

”Huh?”

”The angle where I hit him was a blind spot. They’ll only see the Lizard flying backward, not who did it.”

It was probably just a coincidence.

He honestly didn’t care if he was exposed or not—he hadn’t known it was a blind spot when he threw the punch. He only realized it afterward.

Maybe, just maybe, God—if he existed—had decided it wasn’t his time to be revealed.

...

Half an hour later.

The NYPD had arrived and were carrying out the body of Dr. Connors, which was already cold to the touch.

Captain George Stacy of the 19th Precinct was on the scene.

”Gwen!” The moment he got out of his car, he rushed over and pulled her into a tight hug. ”Thank God, you’re okay.”

”Dad.”

Gwen eased out of his embrace, glanced at Hawk, then took his hand. ”Hawk saved me,”

George’s eyes turned to Hawk.

Hawk gave a polite, familiar greeting.

”Mr. Stacy.”

”Thank you.” This time, George didn’t ignore him. He looked him straight in the eye and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod of gratitude.

Hawk smiled. ”I just did what I had to.”

George said nothing, but his eyes darted for a split second to where his daughter’s hand was firmly intertwined with Hawk’s. He looked back at Gwen. ”Call your mother. She was worried sick when she saw the news about the attack at Midtown.”

Gwen gasped, realizing she’d forgotten. She quickly pulled out her phone and stepped away to call her mom.

Once she was gone, George stood beside Hawk, looking toward the body bag being loaded into the coroner’s van. ”So, the Lizard was Dr. Connors. But what was he doing at the school?”

Hawk’s expression didn’t change. ”I don’t know.”

But he was thinking about Connors’s last words.

The devil made me do it.

What kind of devil would convince Connors to ignore Spider-Man, the one he had a grudge against, and ignore Hawk, whose blood he supposedly needed, just to make a beeline for the completely harmless Gwen Stacy?

It made no sense.

Unless this devil wasn’t playing by the usual rules.

A moment later, Gwen returned, visibly relieved after talking to her mother. She walked right up to Hawk and naturally looped her arm through his. ”All clear with Mom.”

George’s eye twitched almost imperceptibly at the casual gesture. He decided it was time to leave.

If he stayed any longer, he might just shoot the kid.

...

Another half hour passed. After the NYPD and Captain Stacy had cleared out, Midtown Tech announced that school was dismissed for the day.

The students, who had still been buzzing with the aftershock of the Spider-Man vs. Lizard battle, immediately erupted into cheers. Praising the school’s wise decision, they bolted for the parking lot like wild horses breaking free from a pen.

Hawk just shook his head, deciding to stop wasting time thinking about Connors’s motives.

The man was dead. Dwelling on it was pointless.

That weekend, Hawk was in his apartment, surfing the web on the laptop he’d bought from Skye, connected to the hotspot from the phone his girlfriend had given him.

He finally had some downtime and decided to look for a way to sell the five Chitauri weapons he had stashed under his bed.

He had to...

He needed to make some money. Otherwise, he wouldn’t even be able to afford a tux for prom.

Theoretically, he didn’t need to worry about money anymore.

But—

When the original Spider-Man had been corrupted by the symbiote, the darkest thing he did was buy himself a cheap suit.

Hawk knew he wasn’t as morally upright as Peter, but he couldn’t be that much worse, could he?

As he was searching for a black-market connection...

A soft thump sounded at his window.

Hawk looked up.

Clinging to the fire escape outside his window, peering in, was the very Spider-Man he had just been thinking about.

--

The sewer walls were slick with a sticky, unidentifiable slime, and the stench—a foul mix of rust, raw sewage, and rot—filled the tunnel.

Hawk shut off his sense of smell entirely. Heat was manageable. Cold was nothing. But this kind of stench, this was his kryptonite.

He looked at the masked figure leading the way through the muck, a genuine curiosity in his voice.

”How in the world did you find this place?”

”I followed the lizards,” Peter explained, his own voice muffled by his mask, likely a welcome filter against the overwhelming stench. ”It’s just up ahead. Around this corner.”

During their fight at the school two days ago, he’d noticed some of the smaller lizards scrambling out of the sewer grates.

With nothing better to do on his weekend, Peter had decided to investigate. He’d spent the better part of a day navigating the labyrinthine sewer system until, finally, he had found it:

Dr. Connors’s temporary lab.

His first thought had been of Hawk, figuring he would be interested. And so, he had swung by his apartment and invited him on a ”Weekend Adventure into the New York Underground.”

Soon, They rounded the corner and saw it.

A bird’s nest of spliced wires, held in place by gobs of some unidentifiable slime, ran up the wall, powering a few bare light bulbs. The weak light illuminated a makeshift lab—two laptops and an assortment of scientific equipment scattered across a table.

Hawk stepped onto the platform, his eyes scanning the setup. ”So where’s this video you were talking about?”

”Here.”

Peter was already at one of the laptops. He typed a few commands, and a video file opened on the screen.

[STATIC]

”That blood... it has to be Hawk’s.”

”I should call him...”

[STATIC]

”No... no, he’d never give it to me.”

[STATIC]

”Wait... Gwen.”

”I can take Gwen. Force Hawk to give me his blood.”

[STATIC]

”Yes... that’s it. I’ll take the girl. Then he’ll have no choice.”

”Get Gwen...”

On the screen, Dr. Connors looked like a man possessed. His clothes were filthy, his hair matted to his head with sweat. He paced and muttered to himself, his image flickering with static.

In the final moments of the video, his eyes wild with a feverish desperation, Connors grabbed the last three vials of the regenerative serum and plunged them into his own body.

A series of guttural, inhuman roars ripped from his throat, and in a final, agonizing transformation, the Lizard was born.

The video ended there.

A strange, almost amused expression crossed Hawk’s face.

So, this was the reason the Lizard had been hunting Gwen. It was all to capture her and force him to hand over his blood?

The logic was so twisted, so utterly insane, that Hawk could only come to one conclusion.

”The lizard serum completely fried his brain.”

”Would you have given it to him?”

”What?” Hawk looked at Peter.

Peter’s question was genuine. ”If Connors had just called you and asked for your blood, would you have given it to him?”

Hawk’s brow furrowed slightly.

Would he have??

Hawk considered it for a moment, then gave a slow, deliberate nod. ”A small amount, yes.”

”Why?”

Peter’s eyes widened behind his mask. ”I don’t know what’s so special about your blood, but it was obviously the key to him becoming the Lizard. Knowing what would happen, you’d still give it to him?”

Hawk looked at Peter, his voice calm and even. ”Him using my blood to become the Lizard would have been his choice. Me giving it to him would have been mine.”

Peter just shook his head. ”I don’t get it.”

”You and I... we both grew up without parents. But yours existed. You had them, and you still have your aunt and uncle. Me? I’m an orphan. Always have been. That’s why you can be a hero, Peter. And why I never can be.”

”Why not?”

”I’m not as good a person as you are,” Hawk said with a small, self-aware smile. ”But I’m not evil, either. I just live by a simple code: a kindness must be repaid, and a wrong must be avenged.”

”When I was let go from Oscorp, it had nothing to do with Dr. Connors. But he still wrote me that letter of recommendation.”

”Even though the letter is useless to me now, when he wrote it, he had nothing to gain from it. That was a favor, freely given. So...”

Hawk’s smile returned, this time with a hint of irony. ”A vial of blood? It’s nothing to me. I would have given it to him. What he does with it... if he saves the world or burns it to the ground... that’s on him. My conscience would be clear.”

Peter listened to Hawk’s explanation, a thoughtful look on his face as he nodded slowly.

A thought then occurred to Hawk. He looked at Peter. ”What, are you interested in my blood now, too? I can give you a vial if you want.”

Peter’s head snapped up, and he shook it vigorously. ”No, no. I’m good.”

”Alright then.”

Hawk chuckled, then scanned the platform one last time and shook his head. ”This is what I mean. His brain is fried. He could have just asked me for it. Instead, he did all this. Come on, let’s go.”

Now that he knew Connors’s motive—as insane as it was—it was time to leave. Considering the doctor’s mental state in that video, it almost made sense.

The logic of a madman. You can no more predict the thoughts of the insane than you can predict the whims of a cat.

Time to go...

He still wanted to see if he could unload those five Chitauri weapons today, and this little field trip had already taken up half his day.

Peter looked around the makeshift lab. ”What about all this?”

Hawk considered it. ”Burn it.”

”Burn it?”

”The man is dead. Let him rest. Besides, if we leave this stuff here, who knows what kind of monster might crawl out of it next. But it’s your call. I don’t really care either way.”

”...You’re right.” Peter thought for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

”Good. Then I’m leaving it to you, friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.” Hawk gave him a mock salute, then turned and walked away without a backward glance, disappearing back into the darkness of the tunnels.

After Hawk was gone, Peter took one last look around the lab, then left as well.

He needed to find something to start a fire.

And after they were both gone, on the platform, the tiny, blinking red light of a hidden camera went dark...

--

Hawk didn’t dwell on the matter.

Back in his apartment, he connected the laptop to his phone’s hotspot and started browsing online.

The Battle of New York had been three months ago, and by now, the internet was starting to see the first trickles of its fallout. Photos and videos of scavenged Chitauri weaponry were beginning to surface in the darker corners of the web.

He could even find a rough market value.

Hawk was on one such site now, a low-level trading forum he’d stumbled upon by accident. At first, he’d thought it was just another online marketplace, until he saw a live-streamed auction for a young Western European woman.

Hawk glanced at it for a second, then moved on.

First, as he had just told Peter, he wasn’t a good person. He certainly wasn’t the type to go soft and jump in to help every time he saw someone suffering.

When he was the one who needed help, when he was the one who needed someone to stand up for him, nobody had been there.

Hawk lived by a simple, brutal philosophy: Everyone fights their own battles.

So he didn’t keep watching the auction. Out of sight, out of mind.

...

After a little while.

After browsing a few other posts selling Chitauri tech on the forum, Hawk had a rough estimate of what his five trophies were worth.

The standard Chitauri rifles—the ones from the four grunts—were going for somewhere between one hundred fifty and two hundred thousand dollars.

Each.

As for the spear he’d taken from the Chitauri squad leader, there was nothing comparable on the forum. But in his head, he’d already set a floor price.

Minimum four hundred thousand.

At an average of one hundred sixty thousand per rifle, the four of them would be six hundred forty thousand. Add the captain’s spear, and the total came to one million and forty thousand.

He’d settle for an even million.

Hawk opened a new, encrypted connection and created an anonymous post. His fingers flew across the keyboard.

FOR SALE: Four (4) Chitauri energy rifles, 99% condition. One (1) Chitauri captain’s energy spear. Package deal, $1,000,000. Serious inquiries only.

He hit ’enter’.

Hawk had expected to wait for hours, maybe even days, for a response. But by the time he had stood up, walked to his small kitchen, and poured a glass of water, his computer was already dinging.

Ping.

Hearing the notification, Hawk carried his glass back to his folding chair and clicked on the message.

[”Can I see a photo?”]

Hawk stroked his chin.

[”...Sure, one sec.”]

He got up, went into his bedroom, and pulled the sheet-wrapped bundle out from under his bed. He unwrapped the weapons, laid them out, and took a quick, clear photo with his phone before heading back to the living room.

He uploaded the image.

The reply was almost instantaneous.

[”Received. They look nice.”]

[”Thanks. Interested?”]

[”Of course.”]

Hawk raised an eyebrow.

Well, that was easy. Is my luck finally turning?

It seemed almost too easy.

But then he remembered—this was alien tech. You couldn’t get it anywhere else on Earth. It was a rare commodity, and with each one sold, there was one less in circulation. It made sense that anyone who saw the listing would want to jump on it immediately.

Just then, another message came through.

[”One million is fine. I’ll take them. But the deal has to be face-to-face.”]

”...”

Hawk read the message and felt that flicker of suspicion again. He remembered something about law enforcement—the FBI, the CIA—loving to run sting operations on these black market sites.

So, was the guy on the other side of this chat an excited federal agent who thought he’d just hooked a big one?

He hesitated for a second, then a cold smile touched his lips.

So what if it was?

He’d already stormed a military base in Quantico. Was he really going to be afraid of the FBI? If it was a sting, so be it. It would just force his hand, and then he could go completely off the rails with a clear conscience.

With that thought, he replied.

[”No problem. Your place or mine?”]

[”You pick. I see your IP is in New York. I’m here as well. Anywhere in the city works for me.”]

”...”

Hawk’s eyebrow shot up again.

He immediately dismissed the possibility of this being a federal agent.

His own tech skills were average at best, tracking his IP would be child’s play for a real pro. If this was a Fed, they wouldn’t be chatting with him. They’d be kicking in his door, screaming, ”FBI! OPEN UP!”

Hawk instinctively glanced at his front door.

Nothing. No dramatic entrance. The hallway outside was silent.

For some reason, he felt a little disappointed. He turned back to the screen, thought for a moment, and typed his reply.

[”How about the old Calvin warehouse in Glendale.”]

[”Works for me. Time?”]

[”Tomorrow morning?”]

[”Good. You want cash or a check?”]

”Heh.” Hawk couldn’t help but laugh at that question. ”Cash, obviously. I’d have to pay taxes on a check.”

Especially not the exorbitant windfall tax the IRS levied on ”unexpected income.” If he took a check, the government would just swoop in and legally steal thirty-seven percent of it—three hundred and seventy thousand dollars—for doing absolutely nothing.

It was legalized theft.

[”You’re not worried the IRS will notice and come knocking when you file next year?”]

[”They can try.”]

This was money he had earned with his own power. Why the hell should he pay taxes on it?

There was no way in hell he was giving them a dime...

Anyone else with his abilities would already be living in a mansion. He was already being a model citizen—just trying to make a little money to improve his life. If the IRS still wanted to rob him after all that, then they shouldn’t be surprised when he got pissed.

The reply on the other end took a moment.

[”Okay. I’ve already dispatched someone to gather the funds. One million in cash is confirmed. That just leaves one last question.”]

[”What?”]

[”When I get there tomorrow, how do I contact you?”]

[”I’ll find you.”]

[”Deal.”]

[”Deal.”]

”...”

--

The next morning.

Monday.

Hawk was up before the sun. He had already requested the day off last Friday, but he didn’t head straight for the cemetery.

Instead, he packed the five Chitauri weapons into a brand-new golf bag he’d bought the day before—and took a cab to a small burrito shop near a local orphanage.

The owner, a Mexican man who seemed to recognize him, looked genuinely surprised when Hawk walked in.

”Hawk...” the owner began, then a flicker of understanding crossed his face. ”Is it the tenth already?”

Hawk nodded, pulling a few crumpled bills from his pocket and handing them over.

The owner took the cash with a familiar nod. ”Just a minute.”

A short while later, two freshly made burritos were packed and ready to go.

Hawk took the bag, offered a quiet ”thanks,” and left, the golf bag heavy on his shoulder.

...

An hour later, after a long, meandering walk through the surrounding neighborhoods, Hawk hailed another cab. He was now carrying nearly a dozen bags of takeout from various local restaurants.

His destination: Calvary Cemetery.

Sprawling across the border of Brooklyn and Queens, Calvary Cemetery was a historic landmark, founded in 1848.

Logically, after more than a century, it should have been completely full. And it was. But in 1984, the cemetery was purchased from the city by a private corporation.

And just like that, Calvary became a for-profit enterprise.

The new owners began a ”cleanup.” Three months later, the cemetery reopened, with thousands of new plots suddenly available.

No one asked where the old occupants had gone.

And no one protested.

To keep up with the times, the new owners even developed a special section on a pristine, north-facing hill—prime real estate with beautiful views and peaceful surroundings to attract discerning clientele. They also kept their government contracts for state-funded burials.

It was nine in the morning by the time Hawk arrived.

The guard at the gate inspected the paperwork Hawk provided, gave a curious glance at the golf bag, but waved him through without a search.

The cemetery was massive, a quiet kingdom of the dead spanning two boroughs.

Hawk had been here many times before. He knew the way by heart. A fifteen-minute walk along a winding stone path brought him to a small, simple headstone.

A photograph was affixed to the marble, showing a young girl with a sweet, radiant smile.

Below it, her name was engraved.

ANYA

May 20, 1995 – September 10, 2009

Hawk set the golf bag down on the grass. He crouched in front of the grave and carefully, almost reverently, arranged the bags of food on the small stone ledge before it—a feast for two. He then looked up at the photograph, at the smiling face frozen in time.

Hawk didn’t speak.

He just watched, and as he stared at her smile, a genuine, unguarded smile of his own slowly formed—the same one that appeared each morning when he first saw the matching photo on his nightstand.

After a moment, he pulled his phone from his pocket—already turned off so he wouldn’t be disturbed—and set it aside. He shifted, leaning his back against the cool stone of the headstone, and looked out at the view.

From a distance, it was as if he and the girl in the photograph were sitting together, their gazes fixed on the same horizon, sharing the quiet beauty of the morning.

...

Far across the city.

Midtown School of Science and Technology.

”Gwen, have you seen Hawk??”

”Uh...”

Gwen, who was just about to put her backpack in her locker, paused as a call from Mrs. Snow, the guidance counselor, came through.

”Didn’t he ask you for the day off?”

”He did, but I just got off the phone with NYU. Their admissions officers are coming to the school today.”

”...They’re here for Hawk?”

”Yes. But I can’t reach him. God, when he didn’t have a phone, I couldn’t reach him. Now he has one, and he keeps it turned off!” Mrs. Snow sounded like she was at the end of her rope. This was somehow worse than him not having a phone at all.

”I thought maybe he told you where he was going. Do you have any idea?”

”Well...”

Gwen hesitated. She had a pretty good idea of where he was, but she didn’t know if he wanted her to know. She knew today was important to him, a private day.

”The NYU reps are finalizing their early admissions list today. If Hawk doesn’t show up, he could miss his chance. It would be such a shame.”

”Okay.”

Hearing that, Gwen made her decision. She knew how much preparation Hawk had put into his NYU application. This was his future on the line. She couldn’t let him miss it. ”Alright, Mrs. Snow. I’ll go find him. But I might need to take the rest of the day off.”

A wave of relief washed over Mrs. Snow’s voice. ”Sure.”

After hanging up, Mrs. Snow shook her head, then a small smile touched her lips.

Of course.

It had to be Gwen.

...

On the other end, Gwen ended the call, stuffed her textbooks back into her locker, grabbed her bag, and headed for the parking lot. Within minutes, her yellow Corolla was pulling out of the school and heading for the highway.

She drove straight to Calvary Cemetery.

She parked outside the main gate and explained the situation to the staff, who let her in without any issue.

Gwen seemed to know her way around. She followed the stone path, and as she rounded a familiar corner, she saw him. He was leaning back against a small headstone, one leg stretched out, the other bent, his arm resting casually on his knee.

Hawk, lost in his own world, heard the soft crunch of footsteps on the gravel. His focus snapped back to the present, and he turned to see Gwen walking cautiously toward him.

Seeing the small, unsurprised smile that formed on his face, Gwen felt a wave of relief. She walked over, her steps slowing as she approached.

She didn’t ask him about NYU. Instead, her eyes fell on the tombstone, on the photograph of the girl—the same one from the frame on his nightstand. She looked from the photo to Hawk, who was still leaning against the stone, and her voice was soft, gentle.

”Can you tell me about her?”

Hawk smiled faintly, his gaze turning back to the picture on the headstone.

”Anya.”

”My...”

”Sister.”

”...”

--

”My sister.”

”We were found on the steps of St. Paul’s Community Church in Queens.”

”The only thing we had on us was a slip of paper with our birthdates.”

”Hawk and Anya. The priest at the church gave us our names.”

”Anya always loved her name.”

Hawk, leaning against his sister Anya’s headstone, didn’t bother asking Gwen how she had found him. He knew it would have been a pointless question.

He spoke softly. ”Anya was always happy.”

”She lived her life happily. Even when the hole in her heart kept her in and out of the hospital, she never stopped smiling.”

Fortunately, because they were orphans, he never had to worry about medical bills, no matter how many times she was admitted. The state and federal government covered everything.

He glanced at Gwen, who was now sitting beside him, her back resting against the same headstone. ”Sometimes I wonder if that’s why they left us. If they knew that by making us orphans, they were guaranteeing we’d get the best care, free of charge...”

Gwen’s expression tightened, and she just shook her head.

”Weren’t there any birth records when they found you?”

”None.”

Hawk shook his head. ”The church checked with all the hospitals in the city, but there were no matches. A doctor later suggested we were probably born at home, not in a hospital.”

Home births weren’t uncommon.

Especially among families with strong religious convictions. The more extreme ones wouldn’t go to a hospital even if it meant both mother and child dying during a complicated birth.

”But it doesn’t matter.”

”I never wanted to find them. They chose to abandon us, so we owe them nothing.” Hawk shrugged, then continued his story.

”At first, there were people who wanted to adopt us.”

”But because of Anya’s heart condition, most of them backed out.”

”Father Moses was a good man. He didn’t want to separate us, so he became our legal guardian, and we stayed at the church until we were four.”

”But then he passed away, and Anya and I were sent to a group home.”

”We grew up there.”

A group home—a residential facility designed like a large family, where a dozen or so orphans were cared for by staff from a nonprofit.

Gwen frowned. ”No one ever took you in? Not even a foster family?”

”Who would want us?”

Hawk let out a short, humorless laugh. ”The moment Anya left the system, her medical bills would have become their responsibility. And I was never going to leave my sister. Foster care was an option—they wouldn’t have to pay for her treatment—but the foster system... heh.”

Adoption and foster care were two different worlds.

One was usually about love. The other, more often than not, was about the check.

Many foster families took in kids just to collect the government subsidies, using the money for themselves while providing the bare minimum for the children in their care. As long as the kids didn’t die, no one looked too closely.

Gwen had heard enough stories from her father to know this was true. She simply nodded, acknowledging the bitter reality in his words.

”So, what happened...?” Gwen’s voice trailed off. She glanced at the dates on Anya’s headstone.

1995.5.20 - 2009.9.10

Her gaze lifted, and she looked around at the other graves in this section of the cemetery.

”I remember this section. Most of the people buried here were the ones who died during the fight between the Hulk and the Abomination...”

”...” A flicker of something cold and hard passed through Hawk’s eyes. It was there and gone in an instant. He looked at her and nodded.

”That’s right...”

”Anya didn’t die from her illness. She was killed by the collateral damage from that battle.”

The pieces clicked into place. Gwen finally understood. ”So all these years, all your training... it’s for...”

”VENGEANCE!!!”

Hawk turned to face her, the word forced from between his teeth, the flames of vengeance finally burning free in his eyes. ”I repay every kindness, and I avenge every wrong.”

He had been an orphan in his past life, and he was an orphan in this one. But here, he had a sister, someone who had been with him from the very beginning.

So even when he was thrust into this new world—the Marvel Universe—without any powers, he had never felt lost.

Hawk had always been content with what he had.

He never had any grand ambitions of changing the world. His dreams were simple: Find happiness in what he had.

No powers? Fine. Life goes on.

He worked hard in school. He maintained his grades, even in the underfunded public system, until he caught the eye of a recruiter from Midtown Tech and was offered a scholarship.

His plan had been simple: study hard, get a good job, and make enough money to pay for his sister’s treatment.

On that day—September 10th, 2009—during his first weekend as a Midtown student, he took his sister to Times Square. They took a picture, a snapshot of a moment Hawk believed would be the turning point in their lives, a memory they would cherish forever.

And it was a turning point.

Just not the kind he had imagined.

After their day out, as they were waiting for the bus to go home, the unthinkable happened.

The Abomination appeared. Then the Hulk.

The two monsters began to tear the city apart.

When Hawk had watched it in the movies, he had thought the fight scene was spectacular. But being in the middle of it, he saw the carnage hidden behind the spectacle.

The screams.

The agony, the terror—in the face of that battle, normal people were utterly helpless.

Hawk was there, in the chaos, pulling his sister through the stampeding crowd, trying to escape.

And then...

The Hulk smashed the Abomination into the side of a building. The facade crumbled, and a wave of concrete and steel rained down from the sky, directly on top of them.

That night, Hawk lost his sister.

And in that same moment, his power awakened.

A Blessing?

Hardly...

It was a curse, bought and paid for with his sister’s life!!

The ones responsible for her death... they shared the same sky as him, but not for long.

A debt of blood has been incurred. And Hawk would see it paid in full.

...

--

A cold fury settled over Hawk’s features. His normally calm blue eyes now burned with the inferno of vengeance as the memories of that night—September 10th, 2009—resurfaced.

Gwen watched the inferno in his eyes, her own expression unreadable.

She didn’t seem surprised by his reaction.

In fact, she already knew. She had asked her father, George, for a small favor and found Anya’s name on the list of victims from the Hulk’s battle with the Abomination.

The photograph had been taken right after Hawk started at Midtown.

But Hawk had never once mentioned the girl in the picture. That silence led Gwen to suspect the worst. Combined with the undeniable family resemblance between Hawk and Anya...

She was a smart girl, and with a police captain for a father, finding the records had been tragically easy.

...

”Abomination is dead, Hawk.”

Hawk didn’t answer.

He thought of the movies, where Abomination was still alive and well—even getting sprung from prison for some underground fight club. He hadn’t seen what came after, but if things followed the usual pattern, Abomination would eventually get a redemption arc.

If it weren’t for what had happened that night, he wouldn’t have cared. Redeemed, unredeemed—it was all the same to him. But now, the thought of it filled him with a visceral, gut-churning revulsion.

It was sickening. Utterly, fucking, sickening.

The fire in his gut churned, but he forced it down. He rubbed his face, erasing the rage, and when he looked back at Gwen, his expression was calm once more. ”So, what’s up, Gwen?”

The inferno in his eyes was gone, as if it had never been there.

Gwen looked from the avenger of one second ago to the easygoing friend before her now, a flicker of worry in her eyes. But she could tell he was shutting the door on the topic, so she didn’t push.

She offered a small smile of her own. ”The recruiters from NYU are at the school today. Mrs. Snow couldn’t reach you, so she called me.”

”NYU?”

”Yeah.” Gwen nodded. ”Mrs. Snow said today’s the day you have to make a decision. We should go.”

Hawk was about to agree, but his eyes fell on the golf bag he had left on the ground nearby. He looked back at Gwen. ”You go ahead. I have a meeting. I’m selling something.”

Gwen, who had already started to stand up, followed his gaze to the golf bag, then looked back at him.

Their eyes met.

Gwen’s smile was soft, understanding.

”Alright. I’ll wait for you by the trail, and we can walk back together.”

”...Alright.”

Hawk held her gaze for a moment longer, then nodded. He watched as she turned and walked back down the small, wooded path.

Only when she had disappeared from view did he let his gaze fall away, his eyes drawn back to the smiling face of his sister in the photograph on the headstone. For some reason, it seemed to him now that her smile was tinged with a hint of worry.

Hawk smiled faintly, as if speaking to her, or perhaps just to himself. ”Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

”And so will you... Wait for me—”

”It won’t be long. I’m going to tear open the gates of Hell itself and bring you home.”

After speaking the words, Hawk took a deep breath, exhaling the last of his turmoil. His expression settled back into its usual calm resolve. He got to his feet, hooked the golf bag with his foot, and caught it smoothly in his hand. He turned and walked away without looking back.

Abomination. The Hulk.

He wouldn’t spare either of them. And when he was done with them, he would find a way to get his sister back.

...

After leaving the cemetery, he saw a woman standing a short distance away.

She had a wild, untamed grace, her blonde hair in an elegant chignon. Her ice-blue eyes seemed to dissect everything they saw, set in the face of a woman with a statuesque figure.

As he looked at her, she seemed to sense his gaze and turned.

A silent, instantaneous understanding passed between them.

Hawk gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod.

The woman’s eyes lit up, and she walked toward him, extending a hand as she approached. ”Anna.”

Hawk took her hand, feeling the calluses on her palm. ”Hawk.”

He released her hand and swung the golf bag from his back, setting it down in front of them. Under Anna’s watchful gaze, he unzipped it.

Anna’s eyes widened as she saw the five Chitauri energy weapons nestled inside, their power cells still glowing with a faint, eerie light.

She instinctively reached for one.

Hawk zipped the bag shut before her fingers could touch them.

”Money.”

”One moment.”

Anna didn’t miss a beat. She smiled, then pressed a hidden earpiece, murmuring a command in flawless French.

A minute later.

A tall, imposing man in a black suit and sunglasses appeared, pushing a 20-inch carry-on suitcase.

Anna held up a hand, stopping him from approaching. She walked to him, took the suitcase, dismissed him with a nod, and returned to Hawk. She pushed the case toward him. ”One million.”

Hawk took the suitcase with one hand while passing the golf bag to Anna with the other.

With a sharp click, he opened the case.

The sight of it—a million dollars in crisp, neatly stacked hundreds—was staggering. He’d been poor for so long that the sheer, physical reality of that much cash made his breath catch in his throat.

But he recovered quickly. He didn’t bother checking for counterfeit bills. He figured she wasn’t stupid enough to try and cheat someone who had a source for Chitauri weaponry.

Hawk snapped the case shut, stood up, and looked at Anna, who had just finished her own inspection.

”Well then...” Hawk spoke first, extending his hand again. ”Pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Anna.”

”And you, Mr. Hawk. And by the way, this makes us friends now, doesn’t it?”

”Sure.” Hawk said, the word dripping with indifference.

Anna’s smile only widened. ”Excellent. As a friend, I’ve prepared a little gift for you, I do hope you’ll like it.”

”...”

--

Gwen sat in her car across the street from the cemetery gates, a worried expression clouding her features as she stared at the entrance.

She knew that Hawk’s sister had died during the battle between the Hulk and the Abomination back in 2009. She had even guessed that this was the driving force behind his relentless, almost desperate need to become stronger.

The method itself was absurd—getting stronger just by throwing punches every day, to the point where he could kill the Lizard with a single slap. It defied all logic and science.

But that didn’t matter anymore.

What mattered was that guessing the truth and hearing Hawk confirm it himself were two entirely different things.

But—

This was the Abomination and the Hulk she was talking about.

The Abomination was one thing, he was already dead. But the Hulk? Could Hawk actually beat him? And besides, the Hulk had fought alongside the Avengers. If Hawk went after him, the Avengers would almost certainly try to stop him.

Could Hawk win against all of them?

Gwen’s mind was filled with a gnawing anxiety.

She wasn’t worried about trying to convince him to let go of his anger. She wasn’t going to preach about love and peace.

This was his sister, the only family he had in the world.

If he was supposed to just give up on revenge, then why did the U.S. government launch a full-scale retaliation after being attacked? Weren’t they all about love and peace? So why strike back?

And if love and peace were the actual goals, would the government still be stirring up trouble and starting conflicts all over the globe?

Gwen scoffed internally, rolling her eyes.

She wasn’t some naive idealist brainwashed by the public school system, she was a product of an elite private school education, a pragmatist who had earned every scholarship she’d ever received.

Just as her thoughts began to spiral, a figure emerged from the cemetery gates: a tall, stunningly beautiful woman with a regal bearing, her face hidden behind dark sunglasses.

It was Anna.

But she looked nothing like the woman who had been smiling and chatting warmly with Hawk just moments before. Now, her perfect face was cold as ice, and she walked with an aura of raw power.

Behind her, a bodyguard in a black suit followed, carrying a golf bag that clearly wasn’t for golfing.

A moment later, the roar of an engine echoed down the street. Anna’s flame-red Porsche peeled away from the curb and vanished like a streak of light.

The bodyguard got into a black Chevy SUV and drove away from the cemetery.

...

A little while later, Hawk appeared at the cemetery gate.

Gwen tore her eyes away from the rearview mirror, where the Chevy had just disappeared, and got out of her car as Hawk approached, pulling a rolling carry-on suitcase behind him.

Hawk opened the trunk and lifted the suitcase inside.

Gwen watched as the car’s suspension dipped noticeably under the weight. ”What is that?”

Hawk stepped aside. ”Take a look.”

Gwen glanced at Hawk, then reached in and unzipped the suitcase.

Instantly, her eyes went wide.

She drew in a sharp, audible breath. ”Hiss...”

”Yeah,” Hawk said with a small smile. ”That was my reaction too.”

Gwen quickly zipped the suitcase shut and shot a nervous look around the street. Seeing that no one was watching, she turned back to Hawk, her eyes wide.

”Where did you get this?”

”I traded five weapons for it.”

Hawk shrugged, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. ”You should know which five.”

Gwen froze for a second, then blinked rapidly. ”I have no idea what you’re talking about...”

”Gwen.”

”Hm?”

”My acting might be bad, but your tidying-up skills aren’t much better.”

”...”

The photo of him and his sister, Anya, on the nightstand.

The weapons under the bed, wrapped in a bedsheet that was clearly not folded the way he’d left it. She must have found the weapons, opened the bundle in shock, and then forgotten how he’d wrapped it in the first place.

Gwen’s mouth opened, then closed. She looked completely busted.

The next second, she slammed the trunk shut, her expression suddenly all business. ”The people from NYU are here. We need to get back to school. Now.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and marched toward the driver’s side door, refusing to even look at him. But as she turned, Hawk noticed the tips of her ears were a faint shade of pink.

It was kind of cute.

Hawk watched her hasty retreat with a small smile. He didn’t press the issue, just opened the passenger door and got in.

Gwen stomped on the gas, and the car peeled away from the curb.

On the way back to school, Gwen was a silent, focused driver, still stewing in her embarrassment. She kept her eyes on the road, refusing to look at him or give him an opening to speak.

Hawk, for his part, just sat in the passenger seat, thinking about what Anna had said before she left.

A gift?

What gift??

...

The forty-five-minute drive was completed in a record thirty, thanks to Gwen’s uncharacteristically aggressive driving. As they pulled into the school parking lot, she hung up a call with Mrs. Snow.

”The NYU rep is already in the office.”

Hawk nodded and got out of the car.

Gwen got out as well and called after him, giving him a quick thumbs-up. ”Good luck, Hawk.”

”Thanks.”

He walked toward the administration building. Gwen didn’t follow. This was his NYU interview, not her Berkeley one. It was a formal process, and it wouldn’t be appropriate for her to be there.

Knock, knock.

”Come in.”

”Mrs. Snow.”

Hawk entered the office. His eyes immediately fell on a man in a perfectly tailored suit sitting on the sofa, then shifted to Mrs. Snow. ”You wanted to see me?”

Mrs. Snow waved him in. Once the door was closed, she introduced the man, who had just stood up. ”Hawk, this is Mr. Gary Cooper. Mr. Cooper is an admissions officer from New York University.”

The man stood up as Mrs. Snow continued, ”Gary, this is the young man I was telling you about. Hawk.”

Hawk quickly extended his hand.

”Mr. Cooper.”

”Hawk.”

Gary Cooper shook his hand, a brief, professional smile on his face that quickly faded back into a neutral, evaluative expression. ”I’ve reviewed your scholarship application. I have a few questions for you today. Please, have a seat.”

Hawk nodded and sat on the sofa opposite him.

Gary sat back down and picked up a notepad. He looked at Hawk, ready to begin.

This was both an evaluation and an interview. If he made a good impression, an admissions officer with Gary’s seniority had the authority to give him an on-the-spot acceptance.

Of course. That was only if you were exceptional.

...

An hour later.

Gary Cooper closed his notebook. He looked at Hawk, then at Mrs. Snow’s hopeful, expectant face. A genuine smile finally broke through his professional demeanor. He stood up and extended his hand again.

”Congratulations, Hawk. Welcome to NYU.”

”Oh! That’s wonderful!”

Mrs. Snow gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.

Hawk was stunned for a second, then quickly stood and shook the man’s hand.

”Thank you, Mr. Cooper.”

”You can thank my colleague, Anna,” Cooper said with a knowing look. ”She’s the one who put your file on my desk.”

”...”