Jack sat hunched over in his small, dimly lit apartment, the glow from his computer screen the only source of light. The quiet hum of the city outside was a distant murmur, dulled by the thick concrete walls that shielded him from the outside world. It was a quiet night, but Jack's mind was anything but still.

  He rubbed the back of his neck, tension seeping into his muscles. His ribs still ached, a dull reminder of the fight that nearly killed him, but he had no time to dwell on the pain. There were more pressing matters at hand, matters that weighed heavily on him. The parade was tomorrow—Crimson Nova’s public memorial. Thousands would be there, paying tribute to a hero whose legacy cast a long shadow over the city. And in that crowd, Jack knew, chaos was waiting to strike.

  He had been combing through underground forums for hours, tracking the growing buzz of rumors about what might happen during the parade. The internet had become his primary hunting ground, a place where whispers of danger were shared in the form of encrypted messages, hidden within layers of anonymity. Most of it was noise—conspiracy theories, exaggerated warnings, and baseless fears. But somewhere in the midst of it all, Jack knew there was truth. The real danger. He just had to find it.

  His eyes burned from the strain, and he leaned back, rubbing his temples. He hadn't slept much since leaving NovaTech. The need to be vigilant, to be prepared, gnawed at him constantly. He knew something was coming—he could feel it, a gnawing sense of dread that had been growing since the NovaTech attack. But the specifics eluded him. Who was behind it? What did they want? And why had they taken the modulators?

  He scrolled through another page of posts, his fingers moving automatically over the keys. Then something caught his eye. A new post. Short. Cryptic. But unmistakable.

  “The storm is building. Need your eyes for tomorrow’s memorial. Check the grid. 19:00. They’re moving in the shadows, and I’ll be there too. - Molecule.”

  Jack froze, his eyes narrowing as he reread the message. Molecule. The name didn’t register, but the timing and the phrasing—it was too deliberate to be a coincidence. Someone was reaching out, someone who knew something. The reference to the "grid" sent a jolt of recognition through him. He’d worked with people before who monitored power grids, security systems, and communication networks. Whoever posted this wasn’t just guessing. They had seen the patterns too.

  But the bigger question gnawed at him: Why reach out to him? How had they known where to find him?

  He stared at the screen for a long moment, his mind turning over the possibilities. The post was buried in a forum frequented by people like him—unregistered supers, vigilantes, the ones who operated outside the law. If someone had left a message here, they knew exactly what they were doing. They wanted him to see it.

  Jack's mind flicked back to the attack at NovaTech, to the chaos that had erupted in the labs. There had been a scientist—a woman—who had helped him disrupt the manipulator’s control. She hadn’t said much, just handed him the tool that had saved his life. He hadn’t seen her face, didn’t know her name, but he remembered the urgency in her movements, the calm precision with which she’d acted. Could it be her?

  His gut told him it was. No one else from NovaTech had reached out. No one else even knew how to find him.

  Jack leaned forward, typing a quick response into the forum, keeping it short and vague.

  “Noted. Eyes on the grid. Will be there.”

  It wasn’t much, but it was enough. If she was looking for him, she’d know he was watching.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Jack closed the laptop and stood, the tension in his body coiling tighter with each passing second. The parade was tomorrow, and now he had even more reason to believe that something was about to happen. He moved to the closet, sliding the door open to reveal the black suit hanging in the shadows. His mask, sleek and featureless, hung beside it, waiting for him.

  The city didn’t need Jack Donovan tomorrow. It needed Veil.

  He stripped out of his worn clothes and pulled on the black suit, the familiar weight settling over him like a second skin. The fabric hugged his frame, and with it came the calm focus he needed. Jack Donovan was a man with scars and regrets, but Veil was something else—someone who could move unseen, unaccounted for, in the spaces between the cracks. When the chaos erupted, Veil would be there to meet it.

  Jack placed the mask over his face, the world shifting as his vision adjusted to the narrow slits in the mask’s surface. He glanced at himself in the mirror, the man staring back at him a far cry from the person he once was. No one knew who Veil was beneath the mask, and that was how it had to stay. He operated in the dark, and the dark was where he thrived.

  He left his apartment without a word, slipping into the shadows of the city. The streets were quieter now, the late hour drawing in the usual nightlife. The city’s pulse, though, was still strong—cars moved through the streets, the occasional distant thrum of a hero overhead. But Jack moved like a ghost, unseen, unnoticed.

  He made his way toward the heart of the city, where the parade preparations were already underway. Barriers had been erected, and workers were setting up stages and screens. The memorial wasn’t just a tribute; it was a show. Heroes would be there to remind the world that, despite the loss of Crimson Nova, the system was still strong, still in control. But Jack knew better. The cracks were already showing.

  As he moved through the alleys and side streets, Jack’s mind drifted back to the fight that had nearly taken his life. The way Crimson Nova had fallen haunted him. She had been one of the strongest—untouchable, or so they thought. But she had been caught off guard, betrayed by someone on the inside. And now she was dead, her body broken in the aftermath of an attack no one saw coming.

  Jack had failed to stop it. They all had.

  That failure weighed on him now as he approached the parade grounds. The city was on edge, the people clinging to their heroes for reassurance. But Jack couldn’t shake the feeling that the worst was yet to come. Whoever had attacked NovaTech wasn’t finished. They had a plan, and the parade was the perfect cover for whatever was coming next.

  He made his way to a rooftop overlooking the parade route, settling into the shadows. From here, he had a clear view of the streets below, where crowds were already beginning to gather, despite the early hour. Security was tight—heroes patrolled the area, and police were stationed at every corner. But Jack wasn’t worried about the obvious threats. The real danger was moving in the shadows, just out of sight.

  He pulled out a small device from his belt, tapping into the city’s security grid. The power spike Molecule had mentioned was real, building steadily beneath the surface. He could see it now, the data streaming across his screen. Whoever was behind this was using the city’s own infrastructure against them, just like they had at NovaTech.

  Jack’s jaw clenched as he watched the spike continue to rise. They were running out of time. Whatever was coming, it would hit soon—right in the middle of the parade, when the city was at its most vulnerable.

  His thoughts drifted back to the message from Molecule. He still didn’t know much about her, but she had seen the same patterns he had. She was watching the grid, monitoring the same spike. She knew something was coming, and she was trying to stop it. For now, that was enough.

  As the minutes ticked by, Jack kept his eyes on the streets below, scanning for any signs of trouble. The crowds were growing, the air thick with anticipation. The parade was set to begin in just thirty minutes, and the heroes were already starting to gather on the main stage, their bright costumes and confident smiles a stark contrast to the tension Jack felt in his gut.

  He knew something was coming. He could feel it, a ripple of unease that sent a chill down his spine. But he didn’t know what form it would take. An attack? Another theft? Or something worse?

  The sun began to set, casting long shadows across the city. Jack stayed in the dark, his eyes fixed on the crowd, his body coiled and ready. Whatever happened next, Veil would be there—silent, unseen, and ready to act.

  Because someone had to.