By sunrise, Eve had officially reached the limit of human psychological endurance.
Not because of the alien symbiote bonded to her nervous system.
Not because she was trapped inside Marvel.
Not even because she’d accidentally become an internet cryptid overnight.
No.
The true horror was New York rental prices.
Eve stared at the glowing apartment listing displayed on a cracked electronics store screen.
ONE BEDROOM — SHARED BATHROOM — NO PETS — $3,400/MONTH
She blinked slowly.
“…I think I died twice.”
Nyx observed the advertisement carefully through her eyes.
“This dwelling appears structurally inadequate.”
“It’s a shoebox.”
“Yes.”
“And somehow it costs more than my old apartment.”
“Humans willingly participate in this?”
Eve laughed weakly.
“You’re finally understanding civilization.”
Morning traffic flooded the streets around them.
People rushed past with coffee cups and briefcases while steam rose from subway vents beneath the sidewalks.
The city looked almost normal in daylight.
Almost.
Until a helicopter thundered overhead with a giant Stark Industries logo painted underneath.
Or until Eve passed a newspaper stand showing headlines about mutant riots in Brooklyn.
Or until someone casually complained about “another stupid wizard incident” while buying bagels.
Marvel civilians were terrifyingly desensitized.
Eve pulled her stolen hoodie tighter around herself.
The clothes still didn’t fit properly.
Technically she’d stolen them from a laundromat at four in the morning after Nyx insisted “cold temperatures reduced combat efficiency.”
Eve called it theft.
Nyx called it survival.
Their moral debates were becoming exhausting.
“We need money,” Eve muttered.
“Yes.”
“And food.”
“Yes.”
“And legally speaking, we should probably avoid homicide.”
Nyx went silent.
That silence alone was concerning.
Eve narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
“…Why are you quiet?”
“I am considering alternatives.”
“That sentence has NEVER led to anything good.”
A delicious smell drifted across the sidewalk.
Hot dogs.
Nyx reacted instantly.
“Hunger.”
“We ate six hours ago.”
“We require more.”
“You require more.”
“We are bonded.”
“You’re using shared pronouns to manipulate me.”
“Yes.”
At least the alien parasite was honest.
Eve approached the food cart cautiously.
The vendor looked exhausted enough to spiritually match New York itself.
“One hot dog,” Eve said.
“Four dollars.”
Eve almost collapsed.
“FOR BREAD AND MYSTERY MEAT?!”
The vendor didn’t even react.
Clearly he’d seen worse.
Probably before breakfast.
Nyx whispered inside her thoughts:
“We could consume him instead.”
“NO.”
“He possesses protein.”
“ABSOLUTELY NOT.”
Eve reluctantly handed over part of her remaining cash.
Twelve dollars had become eight terrifyingly fast.
She accepted the hot dog and walked away before Nyx could propose cannibalism again.
The symbiote immediately pushed closer toward the food.
Curious.
Hungry.
Eve took a bite.
Nyx experienced the taste through their bond.
Then paused.
“…This is disappointing.”
“It’s a hot dog from New York.”
“Yes.
Disappointing.”
“You’re developing food opinions already?”
“I am evolving.”
“That’s somehow more upsetting.”
The symbiote absorbed another sensory impression from the crowd around them.
Perfume.
Sweat.
Coffee.
Electricity.
Human emotions flooding everywhere.
Eve could feel Nyx processing all of it constantly.
Like an animal dropped into a massive unfamiliar ecosystem.
Then Nyx suddenly focused on something nearby.
“Danger.”
Eve stiffened immediately.
“Where?”
“Left.”
She turned casually.
Three police officers stood near the intersection watching pedestrians.
Normal officers.
But one held a tablet displaying blurry black-and-white security footage.
Footage that suspiciously resembled her.
“Oh COME ON.”
Nyx sounded amused.
“You are famous.”
“I’ve been here ONE DAY.”
The officers moved further down the sidewalk.
Eve immediately turned the opposite direction.
Fast.
Not suspiciously fast.
But definitely fast.
“We need somewhere hidden,” she muttered.
“Yes.”
“Preferably somewhere cheap.”
“That may be impossible.”
“Please stop adapting to capitalism faster than me.”
Nyx considered this.
“…Violence remains economically efficient.”
Eve pinched the bridge of her nose.
“No crime.”
“We already commit theft.”
“That was survival theft.”
“All theft is survival theft.”
“You are NOT becoming philosophical.”
“I am already superior.”
“God, you’re insufferable.”
“And yet you continue speaking with me.”
Fair point.
Unfortunately.
They wandered through several neighborhoods over the next few hours.
Queens.
Brooklyn.
Hell’s Kitchen.
Every area felt alive in completely different ways.
Some streets were crowded and energetic.
Others radiated the kind of danger Eve recognized immediately from internet documentaries and bad life decisions.
Nyx loved those areas.
“The violent districts are efficient.”
“That’s because you’re a monster.”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
No shame.
Just complete acceptance.
Honestly kind of refreshing.
Around noon, exhaustion finally started crushing Eve again.
She hadn’t truly slept since dying.
Which was probably medically concerning.
Assuming medical science still applied to her anymore.
Nyx sensed her deteriorating condition.
“Your body requires rest.”
“Our body.”
“…Acceptable correction.”
Eve blinked.
That tiny adjustment shouldn’t have mattered.
But somehow it did.
The symbiote was adapting to her too.
That realization felt weirdly intimate.
Dangerously intimate.
Before Eve could think deeper about it—
a loud crash echoed nearby.
Everyone on the sidewalk turned instinctively.
A car alarm screamed from across the street.
Then came shouting.
Two masked men burst out of a jewelry store carrying bags.
Armed robbery.
Of course.
Because apparently Marvel New York operated entirely on comic-book timing.
“Seriously?
In broad daylight?”
Nyx became interested immediately.
“Potential financial opportunity.”
“We are NOT robbing robbers.”
“Counterargument: money.”
The criminals sprinted toward an alley—
then suddenly flew backward.
Purple energy exploded across the pavement.
Eve froze.
The hooded mutant girl from last night landed between the robbers and the street.
Dark curls.
Amber eyes.
Purple energy threading around her fingers like glowing wires.
And somehow—
even prettier during daylight.
Nyx instantly noticed Eve’s emotional spike.
“There it is again.”
“Shut up.”
“You are attracted to her.”
“I HAVE FUNCTIONING EYES.”
The mutant girl twisted one robber’s arm effortlessly before slamming him into the wall with gravity-like force.
The second tried firing his gun.
A pulse of purple energy crushed the weapon instantly.
Pedestrians immediately started recording everything with phones.
Naturally.
Marvel civilians treated superhuman violence like street performances.
The girl looked deeply annoyed by the attention.
Interesting.
She clearly wasn’t doing this for fame.
Police sirens approached rapidly.
The mutant girl prepared to leave—
then noticed Eve standing nearby.
Recognition flashed briefly across her face.
“…You again.”
Eve’s brain malfunctioned immediately.
“…Hi.”
Outstanding.
Absolutely flawless social interaction.
Nyx sounded disgusted.
“You are pathetic.”
“I’m TRYING.”
The girl walked closer casually while the robbers groaned behind her.
“You following me now?”
Eve nearly choked.
“What?!
No!”
“That sounded defensive.”
“Because I’m being accused of stalking by a very pretty—”
She stopped.
Too late.
The mutant girl blinked.
Silence.
Eve wanted death.
Immediate death.
Nyx, meanwhile, radiated pure malicious delight.
“You embarrass easily.”
“I HATE YOU.”
“That is biologically inaccurate.”
The girl suddenly laughed.
Actually laughed.
Warm.
Soft.
Genuine.
And devastatingly attractive.
Eve forgot language again.
“You’re weird,” the girl said.
“Correct.”
“…I wasn’t talking to you.”
Crap.
Eve froze instantly.
Had she spoken aloud?
Apparently yes.
Again.
Nyx sounded smug.
“Your stealth capabilities remain terrible.”
The girl studied Eve more carefully now.
Not afraid.
Curious.
That somehow felt more dangerous.
“You always talk to yourself?”
Eve panicked internally.
Think.
THINK.
“…Anxiety coping mechanism?”
Technically true.
The girl hummed uncertainly.
Then her gaze drifted briefly toward Eve’s neck.
The black veins had surfaced again.
Tiny tendrils flickered beneath the skin before disappearing.
The mutant girl definitely noticed.
But instead of stepping away—
she stepped closer.
Interesting choice.
“You’re not normal,” she said quietly.
Eve nearly laughed hysterically.
“Understatement of the century.”
For one brief second—
their eyes locked.
And something strange happened.
Nyx reacted first.
Alert.
Focused.
Interested.
Eve suddenly felt emotional impressions bleeding faintly through the symbiote bond.
Not her emotions.
The girl’s.
Exhaustion.
Loneliness.
Pressure.
Hidden anger.
It vanished almost instantly.
But Eve still staggered slightly afterward.
“What was that?”
Nyx sounded fascinated.
“Emotional resonance.”
“We can READ emotions now?!”
“Apparently.”
“That is WAY too intimate!”
The girl frowned slightly.
“You okay?”
“Fantastic,” Eve lied instantly.
“Your face says otherwise.”
“My face is a traitor.”
That earned another faint smile.
God.
Eve was doomed.
A police siren blared closer.
The mutant girl sighed softly.
“Great.
Time to disappear before paperwork happens.”
“You hate police?”
“I hate authority.”
“Mood.”
The girl tilted her head slightly.
“…You hungry?”
Eve blinked.
“What?”
“There’s a diner nearby.”
Nyx immediately became suspicious.
“Potential trap.”
Eve ignored her.
Mostly because her brain had stopped functioning again.
“Are… are you asking me out?”
The girl looked momentarily surprised herself.
Then amused.
“I was offering food.”
“…Right.”
“Though your reaction is interesting.”
Eve wanted the pavement to consume her.
Nyx was enjoying this far too much.
“She dominates you socially.”
“Please stop narrating my humiliation.”
The mutant girl shoved her hands into her jacket pockets.
“Well?”
Eve hesitated.
Objectively this was dangerous.
She barely knew this girl.
She was hiding an alien organism inside her body.
And there was a non-zero chance Marvel catastrophes could happen literally anywhere.
But—
she was tired.
Hungry.
Lonely.
And the mutant girl’s presence felt weirdly safe.
Nyx sensed the emotional shift immediately.
“You trust her.”
“I barely know her.”
“You still trust her.”
Eve hated when the symbiote was observant.
“…Okay,” she said carefully.
The girl nodded once.
“Cool.”
They started walking through the crowded avenue together.
Awkward silence lasted approximately eight seconds.
Then:
“I’m Maya,” the girl said.
There it was.
A name.
Finally.
“Eve.”
“Mysterious.
Short.
Dramatic.”
“My parents were lazy.”
Maya snorted softly.
Nyx observed quietly from within Eve’s thoughts.
“…I approve of this one slightly more than the others.”
Eve nearly smiled.
“That’s the closest thing to a compliment you’ve ever given.”
“Do not become emotional.”
Too late.
The diner was small, crowded, and smelled overwhelmingly like coffee and grease.
Perfect New York energy.
Maya slid casually into a booth near the window.
Eve sat across from her nervously.
Nyx immediately analyzed the environment.
“Multiple exits.
Weak structural integrity.
Excessive sugar content.”
“You review buildings now?”
“I am adapting.”
A waitress approached.
Maya ordered fries and coffee.
Eve stared at the menu prices like they personally offended her bloodline.
Maya noticed instantly.
“…You broke?”
Eve sighed.
“Catastrophically.”
“That bad?”
“I currently possess enough money to buy half a sandwich.”
Nyx added helpfully:
“Or one knife.”
“NOT HELPING.”
Maya blinked.
“You did it again.”
“…Did what?”
“The talking thing.”
Crap.
Eve forced a cough.
“Sleep deprivation.”
“That usually makes people quieter.”
“You underestimate my issues.”
Unexpectedly, Maya smiled again.
Small.
Real.
And somehow more dangerous than all the armed mercenaries combined.
Eve was absolutely doomed.
The waitress returned with drinks.
The smell hit Nyx immediately.
Coffee.
Sugar.
Cream.
The symbiote became fascinated.
“What is this substance?”
“Coffee.”
“It smells chemically aggressive.”
“That’s because it’s New York coffee.”
Maya watched Eve carefully while stirring her drink.
“You’re hiding something.”
Direct hit.
Eve froze internally.
Nyx coiled protectively through her nervous system.
Danger.
Not physical.
Emotional.
Different kind entirely.
Eve forced a casual shrug.
“Aren’t we all?”
Maya didn’t answer immediately.
Her expression shifted subtly.
Older somehow.
Tired.
“Yeah,” she admitted quietly.
That emotional resonance flickered again.
Loneliness.
Isolation.
Fear hidden beneath sarcasm.
Eve felt it through Nyx like electricity brushing exposed skin.
And for the first time since arriving here—
she realized something important.
Maybe she wasn’t the only person in this city pretending to be okay.
Nyx noticed too.
“She is damaged.”
Eve stared softly across the table.
“…So are we.”
For once—
Nyx didn’t argue.