The September morning in New York felt colder than yesterday.
A thin layer of mist clung to the apartment window, leaving faint trails of water across the glass.
Outside, the sky was only beginning to brighten, and the city was slowly waking from its restless sleep.
Emily sat at her desk, her fingertips lightly tracing the edge of her laptop.
She had been sitting there all night.
Not because she was still frightened by what happened in Hell’s Kitchen.
Not because the extra money hidden in her drawer made her too excited to sleep.
No.
The reason was much stranger.
She had discovered that she didn’t seem to need sleep at all.
In her previous life, staying up all night to grind Azur Lane events would have left her dizzy, weak, and half-dead the next morning.
But now, she had gone nearly thirty hours without closing her eyes, and she still felt perfectly fine.
No headache.
No exhaustion.
No heavy eyelids.
Her mind was as clear as a freshly restarted supercomputer.
Every detail from last night remained sharp in her memory—the gunfire, the movement of bullets, the glowing blue interface, the way the Fire Control Radar had calculated every danger zone with terrifying accuracy.
Emily looked at herself in the mirror.
Her sea-blue eyes were bright and clear, without even a hint of redness.
There were no dark circles under her eyes.
No sign of fatigue.
She stared for a while before letting out a quiet sigh.
A strange question crossed her mind.
Do machines dream?
And if they do, do they dream of electric sheep?
Emily rubbed her forehead.
She had always believed she had become something like Navigator TB—a tactical artificial intelligence meant for support and information processing.
But TB was still a program.
A system that needed hardware.
Emily, however, had a body.
Flesh.
Blood.
A heartbeat.
At least, she thought she did.
Yet her needs were slowly becoming less human.
Sleep seemed unnecessary.
Her mental processing was beyond normal.
Her control over electronics was automatic.
And now, she had awakened a combat-grade Fire Control Radar that should have belonged to a warship or a Siren combat unit.
That didn’t fit TB at all.
Last night, she had searched through everything she remembered about Azur Lane—TB’s role, Siren technology, combat systems, fleet support functions—but nothing fully explained what happened.
Unless…
An absurd thought rose again.
Emily immediately suppressed it.
“Impossible,” she muttered.
“Stop thinking nonsense.”
She stood up, changed into the same simple outfit as yesterday, pulled on her hoodie, and tucked away most of her silver-white hair.
Only a few pale strands remained visible near her cheeks.
After grabbing her school bag, she locked the apartment and left.
Before leaving the building, she automatically erased every piece of surveillance footage that had captured her.
She barely even noticed herself doing it anymore.
Removing her traces had become instinct.
On the subway, Emily stayed in the farthest corner and kept her eyes lowered.
Around her, passengers scrolled through phones, read newspapers, drank coffee, and stared blankly into space.
Emily ignored them all.
Instead, she carefully activated the Fire Control Radar again.
In an instant, the entire subway car transformed in her vision.
The metal structure.
The passengers’ keys and phones.
The loose screw near one of the seats.
The condition of the tracks ahead.
Even a slight weakness in the rail fasteners five hundred meters away appeared clearly in her field of view.
Emily’s heart skipped.
She immediately shut it off.
The world returned to normal.
This ability was powerful.
Too powerful.
And until she understood it properly, using it carelessly was dangerous.
Before she could think further, the subway arrived at her stop.
Midtown High School was already crowded when Emily reached the gate.
Students filled the entrance, laughing, shouting, and walking in groups.
The noise could be heard from across the street.
Emily pulled her hood lower and walked quickly toward the school building.
Her goal was simple.
Get inside quietly.
Avoid attention.
Survive another school day.
Naturally, reality refused to cooperate.
“Emily!
Good morning!”
A familiar, slightly shy voice came from the side.
Emily paused.
Peter Parker jogged toward her with his worn-out school bag on his back and his old film camera in hand.
He waved awkwardly, smiling like someone who was trying very hard not to look too excited.
Emily sighed silently.
She had already accepted that avoiding him completely was impossible.
They were in the same class.
They went to the same school.
They would see each other constantly.
If she treated him too coldly every single time, that itself would become suspicious.
So she stopped and nodded.
“Good morning, Peter.”
Peter froze for a second, clearly surprised that she answered.
Then his smile grew brighter, and his ears turned slightly red.
“You’re just arriving too?” he asked.
“First period is Dr.
Connors’ chemistry class.
The lab is in another building, so I thought I’d wait near the gate in case you didn’t know where it was.”
Emily looked at him.
He was sincere.
Annoyingly sincere.
She really didn’t know where the chemistry lab was.
Being late on her second day would only draw more attention.
So she gave a small nod.
“Thank you.”
“No trouble at all!” Peter said quickly, stepping aside.
“Let’s go together.
Dr.
Connors is really strict about being late.
Last time, someone came in three minutes late, and he sent them out immediately.”
Peter started explaining the class rules as they walked.
Emily listened quietly, occasionally nodding but rarely speaking.
Just as they reached the building entrance, a bright girl’s voice called from behind them.
“Good morning, Peter!
And you must be Emily, right?”
Emily and Peter turned around at the same time.
A blonde girl walked toward them under the morning sunlight.
Her hair was tied in a neat ponytail, glowing softly in the light.
She wore a clean white shirt and plaid skirt, and her posture carried a natural confidence.
Pretty.
Smart.
Bright.
Unmistakable.
Gwen Stacy.
Emily’s brows moved slightly.
Of course she knew Gwen.
Peter’s first love.
A brilliant student.
A brave girl.
And in many versions of the future, one of Peter Parker’s deepest regrets.
Peter’s face turned redder the moment he saw her.
“Good morning, Gwen!” he said quickly.
“Yeah, this is Emily.
She transferred into our class yesterday.”
Gwen smiled and extended her hand.
“Hi, Emily.
I’m Gwen Stacy.
I’m also in Class A.
I heard we were getting a full-scholarship transfer student.
And I saw you solve that math problem yesterday.
You were amazing.”
Emily looked at Gwen’s hand for half a second.
Then she shook it lightly.
“Hello, Gwen.”
Her tone was still calm, but slightly more polite than before.
Gwen did not seem bothered by her coldness.
Instead, she glanced curiously at the white hair peeking out from Emily’s hood.
“Your hair is beautiful.
Is it natural?”
“Natural,” Emily answered.
“That’s really cool,” Gwen said with genuine interest.
Then she glanced toward the lab building.
“We should hurry.
Dr.
Connors is already there.
If we’re late, all the good lab benches will be taken.
We’re doing an organic synthesis experiment today, and the smell can get pretty bad.”
Peter nodded immediately.
“Right.
The corner benches are the worst.
Your clothes smell like chemicals for the rest of the day.”
Emily said nothing and followed them.
Gwen walked beside Peter, occasionally talking about the experiment.
From time to time, she also included Emily, asking whether she was getting used to New York and whether school felt too different.
Her tone was friendly but not pushy.
Emily mostly answered with nods or short replies.
She knew very well that both Peter and Gwen would be pulled into superhero chaos eventually.
Getting close to either of them was dangerous.
But she also couldn’t completely ignore simple kindness.
So she chose the safest option.
Polite distance.
They soon reached the chemistry lab.
Dr.
Connors was already standing near the front, arranging equipment.
He wore a clean lab coat and gold-rimmed glasses.
One sleeve hung empty at his side, making his missing arm impossible to ignore.
His face was serious, but not harsh.
When the three students entered, he only adjusted his glasses and gave a small nod.
Emily quietly relaxed.
At least they weren’t late.
The lab benches were arranged in pairs.
Gwen turned to Emily with a smile.
“Do you want to partner with me?
Peter usually works with Harry, but Harry’s absent today.
Since you’re new, I can help you get familiar with the experiment.”
Emily glanced at Peter.
Peter nodded quickly, as if saying this was a good idea.
Emily thought about it.
Working with Gwen was better than working with Peter.
Gwen was smart, careful, and unlikely to cause unnecessary trouble.
More importantly, this arrangement would attract less attention.
“Okay,” Emily said.
“Thank you.”
“No problem.” Gwen pushed an experiment guide toward her.
“I previewed this one already.
The steps are a little complicated.
I’ll prepare the reagents, and you can record the data.
Sound good?”
Emily nodded.
The bell rang soon after.
Dr.
Connors tapped the podium and began the lesson.
His explanation was clear, logical, and detailed.
Unfortunately, it was also extremely boring.
Several students were already fighting sleep within ten minutes.
Emily appeared to be listening carefully, but her mind was elsewhere.
Her gaze briefly fell on Dr.
Connors’ empty sleeve.
A thought crossed her mind.
In the future, this man might become the Lizard.
Another Marvel disaster waiting to happen.
Emily immediately pushed the thought away.
None of her business.
Do not interfere.
Do not get involved.
Stay low.
At that moment, Dr.
Connors suddenly stopped speaking.
His gaze landed directly on her.
“Emily,” he said, “regarding the substitution reaction I just explained, what is the final synthetic product?
And what by-products may interfere with the experimental result?”
The entire class turned toward her.
Gwen quietly nudged Emily’s arm, clearly trying to offer a hint.
But Emily had already stood up.
Her expression did not change.
She answered smoothly.
Not only did she name the main product and by-products, she also explained the reaction conditions, purification method, and how to reduce contamination during the procedure.
Her answer was more complete than the textbook.
For a moment, Dr.
Connors looked genuinely surprised.
Then admiration appeared in his eyes.
“Perfect,” he said.
“Your preparation is excellent.
Please sit.”
Small whispers spread through the lab.
Several students stared at Emily with renewed curiosity.
Gwen looked impressed.
Peter, from the next bench, looked almost proud for some reason.
Emily sat down silently.
Inside, however, she wanted to sigh.
Great.
She had stood out again.
She only wanted to be invisible.
Why was that so hard?
Emily lowered her gaze to the lab bench and strengthened her usual cold, distant aura.
No more speaking.
No more unnecessary answers.
No more attention.
That was the plan.
But after yesterday, Emily was starting to understand something unpleasant.
In this world, daily life itself could become dangerous.
And for someone like her—
Even an ordinary school day was not ordinary at all.
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