Midnight Avenger, ever the shadowed enigma, produced a foil-wrapped object the size of a stack of dolr bills from seemingly nowhere. He peeled back the wrapping, revealing a getinous-looking block inside a yer of clear pstic. The dim light of the rooftop barely reflected off its surface, making it appear even more ominous.

  “This is what they found—about ten bricks. The typical shipment is twelve, just like this. That means two are missing, fed to an unknown number of people in unknown quantities.” He tapped the brick with a gloved finger. “It’s added like a potent fvor enhancer, not dissimir to monosodium glutamate - being a chemical food additive with health concerns included. But unlike MSG, a person exposed to even one-one-hundredth of this can be at serious risk.”

  Aurora stiffened. She had suspected as much, but hearing the numbers made it all the more chilling. What were they thinking putting something like that in peoples’ food?

  “Your friend is one of the people at risk right now,” Midnight Avenger continued, his deep, rasping voice firm. “Evidence suggests they used this to feed the kids they locked up in solitary. Only those kids. I’m currently tracking all the children who, according to records, were imprisoned during the timeframe these bricks were in use. That’s at least a dozen kids, each a potential powder keg waiting to go off. I can’t afford to stay in the city to monitor them all.”

  He crossed his arms, his dull metallic belt glinting slightly under the rooftop lights, the clock emblem at its center barely visible in the dark. His red visor made it impossible to read his eyes, but his tone was enough to let Aurora know he wasn’t asking—he was delegating.

  “I’ll forward you details on the victims in or near the twin cities—backgrounds, locations, potential behavioral triggers. You’ll need to be ready to subdue them if necessary. I’m depending on you to make sure these kids don’t hurt themselves or anyone else. Understood?”

  Aurora nodded, her heart hammering in her chest. The weight of the responsibility was immense, but she wouldn’t hesitate. “Yes, sir. I understand. I’m already watching one closely. I’ll keep tabs on the others as best I can.” She hesitated, then asked, “I understand this might unlock meta genes in them… is that the worst of it?”

  Midnight Avenger shifted slightly. “If only. What usually happens with victims is that they gain a superiority complex bordering on megalomania and a compulsion to act on their most deep-seated whims. This usually results in criminal behavior. The powers they develop vary, obviously, and the activation can st anywhere from hours to days. But here’s the biggest wrinkle—this stuff can incubate for up to six months.”

  Aurora’s breath caught. Six months. That meant this wasn’t just an immediate crisis—it was a long-term problem.

  “I don’t expect you to watch every single one of them personally,” he added. “I’m working with certain resources the Society turns to in more protracted circumstances like this, but it will take more time to get discreet surveilnce and reporting fully in pce. In the meantime it’s in your best interest to be aware of who they are. That knowledge will help you identify a threat before it escates.” He paused and reached a hand toward her. “Now, let me show you something else.”

  Aurora blinked at the offered hand before realizing what he meant. She retrieved her communicator from her pocket and handed it to him.

  Midnight Avenger smirked slightly and flipped it over in his palm. “You’re not utilizing this to its full potential.” He quickly demonstrated how to take higher-resolution images, cross-reference information in an identification folder, and use the device for quick background checks. “This will help with investigations. I’ll send the victim profiles to you shortly, read them closely,” he said, returning the communicator.

  Aurora took it back, nodding. “That’s going to be invaluable. Thank you.”

  She paused, considering. “Detective Kirby is already onto parts of this. Would it be alright to let him know that the kids subjected to this treatment are at potentially immediate risk? He needs to know what to watch for—odd symptoms, behavioral shifts. I understand we don’t want to impact their lives negatively, but taking a ‘wait and see’ approach isn’t the best move either. A subtle early-warning network might be beneficial.”

  Midnight Avenger exhaled sharply, clearly skeptical. “First of all, California authorities want to hush this up. They’re trying to keep it buried for the usual reason, politicians trying to win re-election by saying crime didn’t happen on their watch. So your detective friend may already be aware but is likely under orders not to share anything. Second, what exactly do you expect the Society or the government to do with these kids? Round them up and keep them under surveilnce for six months?”

  Aurora shook her head, chuckling dryly. “No, of course not. Just light surveilnce like you said. Low-key. I can fly over them and check in at a distance using the communicator’s zoom. We just need periodic updates on their condition. If something starts going wrong, we should know before it gets out of hand.” She flexed her hands. “I can’t be everywhere at once, but if this is handled correctly, we won’t have to be. If authorities are aware of the risk, they can at least watch for any strange effects or behaviors. If anyone notices something, they should report it directly to Detective Kirby. He’s more than trustworthy. He believes in superheroes. He’s experienced enough to be discreet. He can funnel critical information where it needs to go, whether to the Sentinels or the authorities.”

  She paused, gauging his reaction. “Either way, I’ll step up my patrols.”

  Midnight Avenger tilted his head slightly. “Again, they probably don’t want this getting out—not even to officers like Kirby. And the st thing we need is police setting up surveilnce on all these families. They don’t have the resources, and it would create more backsh than solutions. If you think Kirby can quietly allocate some of his own resources, talk to him and see what they can manage.”

  Then, abruptly, he stopped speaking and lifted a gloved hand to his ear. “Wait a second…” His posture tensed. “I’m getting a report.”

  Aurora waited as he processed the information.

  “One of the kids from Seaside is having a reaction right now.” His head turned slightly, as if listening to something beyond her perception. “Get over there and look for… ice,” he ordered. “I’ll head over myself, but you’re faster.”

  Aurora’s body moved before she could even think. “Roger that.” She smirked slightly. “I’d offer you a ride if I thought you’d accept.” She knew what the answer would be.

  Midnight Avenger’s silence confirmed it.

  Aurora chuckled. “See you there, sir.”

  She rocketed into the sky, pouring every ounce of speed into her flight northward.

  Even before she arrived, she could see it—tall towers of ice rising up along a street, illuminated by fshing red and blue lights. She followed the trail, her gut tightening as she saw police cars frozen solid under thick yers of ice. Fortunately, no people seemed to be encased so far.

  At the center of the frozen chaos stood a massive igloo.

  Aurora hovered, taking in the scene. Was this an attack? Self-defense?

  The crack of gunfire snapped her attention downward. The police were firing at the igloo!

  She nded quickly, assessing the structure. It was solid—too solid. She aimed a light bst at it to test its durability. The energy struck but did nothing.

  From inside, a voice shouted, “You’ll never break in! Just wait until I’m done, you dumb bastards!”

  Aurora shook her head. Great. Another metahuman, terrified and shing out.

  She flitted onto the igloo’s peak, motioning for the officers to hold their fire. Clearly, this wasn’t working.

  “Hey, kid,” she called out, settling herself cross-legged on top. “It’s your friendly neighborhood Guardian Angel, Aurora.” Her voice was warm, steady. “Remember me? I saved you and the others from that awful camp.”

  She gnced around at the frozen ndscape. “Gotta say, your ice powers are impressive. I was just trying to open a door, but you’re a tough nut.” She chuckled lightly. “How about we talk instead? I know it’s scary waking up and finding out you have superpowers. Believe me, I understand.”

  The police stood tense, waiting for the next move. Aurora, perched above it all, kept her tone calm, non-threatening.

  She just had to get the kid to listen.

  Aurora perched atop the igloo, her gaze sharp, waiting.

  “I’m no kid!” came the defiant response. “I’ll show you too, then—how cool I am!”

  A loud crack split the structure as it shattered apart, ice cascading in jagged shards to reveal the figure within. A boy, maybe thirteen years old, stood at the center, encased in thick, transparent ice that clung to his body like armor. Frost clung to his limbs in jagged yers, reinforcing his movements, his breath curling in a mist from the sheer cold radiating off him. His eyes burned with a mix of newfound power and desperation.

  He raised an arm, and before Aurora could react, a barrage of icy spikes erupted toward her. She instinctively threw up her field. The impact rattled against her barrier, some shards bouncing off, but others—sharp, deadly—lodged into the shimmering energy. Aurora’s stomach twisted. The fact that his attacks could even register against her defenses was a testament to how potent that weird meta-tofu really was.

  This wasn’t some fluke. That substance had completely altered him.

  She knew now that she had to be careful. This wasn’t just some scared kid acting out—this was a metahuman crisis in the making.

  “Really?” Aurora called down, keeping her voice even despite the tension coiling inside her. “I save you from that awful camp, and this is how you treat me? This isn’t the way to act cool. You think wrecking the streets, scaring people, is cool? That’s not how heroes do things—that’s what vilins do. Didn’t you ever look at the skies and think, ‘I want to be a superhero. I want to protect people and stand for something good in this cruddy world?’” She spread her arms. “You wanna be cool? That’s about as cool as anyone can be.”

  “Shut up! You don’t know anything!” The boy snarled and suddenly charged at her, massive ice-cd fists swinging wildly.

  Aurora dodged backward, her movements smooth, but he kept up the assault. His attacks were clumsy but relentless, heavy swings that sent gusts of frozen air cutting through the street. She weaved around him, avoiding each blow, but the cops behind her weren’t as cautious.

  Gunfire rang out.

  Aurora’s eyes widened in horror. One bullet struck her field and stopped short, but others ricocheted wildly.

  “Stop!” she barked, her voice like a whip. “You’ll kill people firing like that! Let me handle this! He’s not what you think he is. Don’t antagonize him any further! You’re just making things worse!”

  The officers hesitated, gncing between each other, but the order had been given. The boy, however, was unfazed. His attention snapped back to Aurora.

  “Don’t mind them,” she said, her tone softer now. “They’re just scared. You’re scaring people. Is that who you want to be?”

  “Yes! I want everyone to be afraid of me! No more calling me those names or telling me how I feel! I’m the coolest guy around! No one can control me anymore—ever!” His voice rose into a furious scream, and the ice around his body started bristling with jagged spikes.

  Aurora grimaced. She’d seen this before in stories about freshly empowered vilins on their first outings—this kind of power trip was dangerous.

  “All right, everyone fall back a half-block!” one of the officers finally called. “Let’s give Aurora a chance to take this monster down!”

  The word hit like a hammer.

  The boy flinched. His lips twisted. “You think I’m a monster too, huh?” His voice cracked—half rage, half pain. “I AM a monster! I’ll show you all!”

  A deep, resonating crack echoed through the street as the ice around him expanded rapidly. His armor swelled outward, his form growing taller, bulkier, his silhouette swallowed in jagged frozen mass. The temperature dropped in a heartbeat—breath misted, frost crackled across the pavement.

  Aurora clenched her fists. “Alright, that’s enough,” she murmured to herself.

  She needed a pn—fast. Fire or electricity could work to counter or bypass his ability, but neither were in her arsenal. Could she use a power line? No—too risky. If she hit him with a surge, there was no guarantee he’d survive.

  Maybe vibration could weaken his armor?

  Her mind raced. Jackhammer.

  She formed the idea in her head and willed it into being. A construct solidified in her grip—a translucent energy replica of the tool, though the moment she gripped it, she could tell it wasn’t vibrating like a real jackhammer. Damn. Not a perfect creation—but it was still heavy.

  She shrugged and rammed it into his icy body anyway.

  The ice chipped away slightly. Not much, but enough to be encouraging.

  “Hey! Stop that!” the boy yelped. His reaction was visceral, panicked.

  Encouraged, Aurora lunged in again, but this time, he reacted faster. A massive arm swung and caught her in the ribs.

  The impact sent her tumbling.

  She hit the ground hard, rolling, more shaken than hurt. She coughed, winded, but already pushing herself up.

  “Hey!” he cried again, but she was already moving.

  Aurora darted forward and touched his frozen chest, spreading her aura around him, lifting him off the ground. He filed wildly, ice scraping against the shimmering energy.

  The ice continued to grow, and the air thickened with biting cold. He was getting harder to hold.

  Her mind whirled—contain him. Restrain him.

  She focused, forming a golden ring around him—a halo of energy meant to keep him suspended, locked in pce.

  Cracks immediately splintered through the construct.

  Aurora gritted her teeth. The sheer force of his power was breaking through it. This kid was strong. Too strong.

  She aimed precise bsts at his armor, stripping the ice away in controlled bursts.

  “You said you wanted to help me, you liar!” he screeched, struggling violently. “I’m gonna freeze everything!”

  Aurora’s stomach clenched. The halo was splintering.

  He was almost free.

  And she was running out of time.

  Aurora's eyes narrowed as she analyzed the boy’s movements, the shifting armor of ice that encased his form. The legs. They were the foundation of his massive form, and she had already seen how fragile the ice could be under focused pressure.

  She flitted around him in a blur of motion, dodging the wild swings of his ice-cd limbs and unleashing a rapid-fire barrage of energy bsts directly at his legs. The force of her shots sent frozen chunks flying, each impact spiderwebbing fractures through the icy armor.

  “I do want to help you! I do want to protect you!” she called out between strikes. “But I can’t do that if you keep fighting me! I can’t have you hurting other people either!”

  The air hummed with the tension of the battle as Aurora poured on the pressure, hammering his legs with relentless precision. Finally, with a deafening crack, one leg gave out, shattering beneath him. As he broke free from the halo that had been struggling to restrain him, the rest of his armor colpsed in a cascade of ice.

  The boy grunted, stumbling as the ice attempted to regrow over his body, the frigid mist swirling around him in defiance. Aurora pressed her advantage, shifting her attacks to his arms. He let out a frustrated cry before abruptly curling into a tight ball, pulling every ounce of his ice inward.

  The ice darkened, thickening, hardening—until suddenly, it was no longer armor at all.

  It was an igloo.

  Aurora hovered, stunned for a moment at the abrupt change. A defensive tactic. He was retreating.

  “Hey!” she called out. “Don’t run away! If you promise me you’ll be a hero, I’ll be your friend! I’m not trying to hurt you—I want you to think about what kind of person you want to be!” She stopped firing the moment the igloo took shape, her voice softening. She floated down, standing a middle distance away from the structure, positioning herself in the space between the cops and the cocoon. “I can wait as long as you need, and I’ll keep the police away.”

  Just as she said it, she caught movement from the corner of her eye. A cop approached in a circur way to keep her between himself and the igloo, gun raised, gaze sharp.

  “Hey,” he called out. “You know what’s going on here? We got a report of this kid tearing up a nightclub or something. He’s been going crazy, destroying things, throwing ice at people. Are you really going to be able to stop him?”

  Aurora kept her eyes locked on the igloo. “I’m trying,” she replied wryly. “I don’t know him personally, but I know of him. He’s a victim, and he’s not in his right mind. It’s not his fault he’s acting out like this. The world hasn’t been kind to him tely. It’s more than that, but trust me when I say—he’s a good kid. I want to protect him.”

  She gnced at the officer. “Do you have a name? Any information on him?” Her voice was low, careful. “I know of him, but I don’t have his name yet.”

  The officer shook his head. “We don’t know who he is. The ice distorts his features too much.”

  From above, a voice cut through the night like a razor.

  “I know who he is.”

  The sound sent a chill through the air colder than even Jason’s ice.

  From a nearby rooftop, the Midnight Avenger descended in a controlled drop, his grappling line retracting into his gauntlet as he nded soundlessly on the street. His midnight-blue zentai suit blended seamlessly into the darkness, the deep red visor reflecting the streetlights as he advanced. Strapped pouches lined his wrists and ankles, the compartments in his dull metallic belt tightly sealed. At its center, a single clock emblem—a stark white symbol against the darkness of his suit—dispyed its hands pointing to midnight.

  He turned to Aurora, his voice low, unwavering. “His name is Jason Starling. He was sent to a religious group for realignment.” His tone sharpened. “Padua has several smaller associated satellite sites within the cities that are being shutdown as we speak. It seems if the child was deemed monstrous enough they might be sent to the main camp, but that didn’t always happen. All just for who he loved...”

  Aurora clenched her fists at the revetion. Another victim. Another kid punished for just being himself.

  The Avenger studied the scene. “Looks like you fought him to a standstill,” he said, then gave her a knowing look. “Did I hear you trying to talk him down?”

  “Yes, sir,” Aurora responded firmly. “I believe that’s the best course of action. Deep down, they’re still good kids. Mistreated horribly, but good kids.” She turned back toward the igloo. “Hey, Jason! The Midnight Avenger knows your name! How cool is that? You wanna be a hero and meet him?”

  The Avenger stepped forward, his tone steady, absolute. “Jason,” he called out, “you’re not a monster. Aurora knows it. So do I. And so do you. Come out of there and surrender.”

  A deep rumbling filled the air.

  Aurora took a cautious step back. Not good.

  The igloo sprouted six massive legs and skittered forward like a crab.

  “You know what’s cooler?” Jason’s voice rang out. “Beating TWO superheroes at once!”

  Aurora shot a look at the Avenger.

  “Legs again,” she muttered, winking.

  She threw out her hands and formed an enormous halo, stretching its energy wide, encircling every leg at once.

  The construct tightened. Jason was bound in pce.

  Without hesitation, Midnight Avenger leaped onto the igloo, moving with swift precision. He drove a metallic spike into the top, pressing a concealed button.

  He hopped off just as the mechanism activated. The igloo shuddered. The ice cracked.

  “Get ready to bind him when he’s shaken out,” Avenger ordered.

  A moment ter, the entire structure shattered with Jason tumbling free.

  Aurora reacted instantly. She forged a construct—a skin-tight containment suit, forming around his body as he hit the ground.

  Jason thrashed, struggling violently. The first attempt wasn’t perfect, but she adjusted quickly, tightening it further, refining its shape as he fought. Bit by bit, she bound him completely.

  “Can you make a hole around his mouth?” the Avenger asked, producing a small device from his belt. “I have a sedative.”

  Aurora nodded. “Yeah.” She focused, adjusting the construct, opening a small funnel around his lips.

  The Avenger raised an eyebrow. “Not exactly what I meant,” he muttered, but wasted no time. He stepped forward, pushing something narrow enough to fit into Jason’s mouth. The sound of a sharp hiss filled the air.

  Jason’s thrashing slowed.

  Then stopped.

  His breathing steadied, his body going limp.

  Aurora let the construct dissipate. For the first time, she saw him clearly.

  Jason Starling—thirteen years old, now unconscious.

  A nearby cop pulled out a set of handcuffs, but before he could move, Midnight Avenger stepped between them, pcing a firm hand on the officer’s chest.

  “The Sentinels are taking custody of this boy,” he said, his voice like steel. “We’ll take it from here.”

  The cop hesitated. He turned to Aurora, looking for confirmation.

  “Aurora?”

  Aurora nodded, smoothly pulling out her ID and flipping it open for the officer to see. The glow of the streetlights caught the emblem, emphasizing its authenticity.

  “I shouldn’t have to vouch for a superhero like the Midnight Avenger,” she said, her voice steady but warm. “But I do, officer. There’s no one who can help this boy better than the Sentinels.” She gave the officer a reassuring smile, her green eyes locking onto his. “There may be others like him in the future. Please put out the word that they should be treated with care and extreme respect.”

  The cop hesitated for a brief moment before lowering his weapon. He gave a small nod, seeming somewhat relieved to have the situation out of his hands.

  Meanwhile, Midnight Avenger stepped forward, his imposing figure silhouetted against the fshing lights of police cruisers. With effortless strength, he hoisted Jason up onto his shoulder. The boy, still unconscious, was limp in his grasp. The Avenger’s deep red visor reflected the surrounding chaos, unreadable as always.

  “Thanks for backing me up, Aurora,” he said. His voice, while still rough, carried a note of approval.

  Aurora couldn't help but smile a little. Midnight Avenger didn’t hand out compliments lightly.

  “I’ll take care of Jason,” he continued. “You’ll have the information as soon as I load him into the Avenjet.”

  Aurora followed his gaze as a sleek jet-bck aircraft hovered down the street, its engines humming with a near-silent precision. The Avenjet. Twenty feet off the ground, it was barely noticeable against the night sky, a shadow among shadows. A compartment underneath hissed open, and a stretcher lowered from the undercarriage, its mechanisms smooth and deliberate.

  The Avenger moved swiftly, securing Jason onto the stretcher with a precision that spoke of long practice. He turned back to Aurora, his unreadable visor reflecting her silhouette.

  “Jason will be fine,” he said, the confidence in his words absolute. “You’ve done well here.”

  Then, without hesitation, he leapt upward, catching onto the hatch with ease and disappearing into the jet’s hull. The aircraft ascended, blending seamlessly into the darkness. Within moments, it was gone.

  Aurora exhaled, steadying herself. That had been intense.

  Before she could even process the moment, she felt someone approaching. She turned and found herself face-to-face with a young woman, a sharp-eyed reporter holding a recording device.

  Valerie North.

  The instantly recognizable Seaside Chronicle journalist stood with easy confidence, her bck hair tucked behind her ears, her brown eyes sparkling with eagerness. She had seen everything, and given how many billboards and social media ads had her pretty face pstered everywhere to advertise the local news, everyone had seen her at some point.

  She was a popur and active blogger for the Seaside Chronicle, known for her even-mindedness and sharp, well-researched reporting.

  Her Chinese-American features were striking—high cheekbones, a delicate but well-defined jawline, and almond-shaped eyes that gleamed with keen intelligence. Her smooth, fair complexion carried a natural radiance, her subtle makeup emphasizing her sharp brows and full lips, which curved effortlessly between professional poise and pyful charm.

  Her presence alone commanded attention, not because she sought it, but because she carried herself with the air of someone who belonged wherever she stood.

  “I saw what just happened,” Valerie said, adjusting her grip on her microphone. “Care to tell me your story?”

  Aurora took a moment to compose herself, then gave the reporter a small, enigmatic smile.

  “I can only share some limited information at this time about what you witnessed,” she said, keeping her tone light but firm. “It’s for the good of all involved. But what I can say is this—if anyone in San Isidro, or even in Seaside City, is in trouble, I’ll do my best to be of service.”

  She stepped slightly closer, letting the glow of the streetlights catch the soft shimmer of her aura.

  “My name is Aurora. I’m a newly minted member of the Society of Sentinels,” she continued, her voice clear and unwavering. “I’m partly of an alien race, but you can think of me as a guardian angel if that makes it easier. But my name is just Aurora.”

  She fshed a bright, reassuring smile.

  “There isn’t much I can tell you beyond that. My identity is secret, and it will remain so.” She spread her arms slightly, as if embracing the very sky above them. “But I look forward to doing what I can to make a difference in my part of the world—and maybe even beyond that.”

  Valerie tilted her head, intrigued. “That’s certainly a lot of information,” she mused. “Are the citizens safe now?”

  Aurora chuckled softly. “I’d like to say yes, but…” She gave a small, self-deprecating ugh. “I might look like an angel, but I can’t promise perfection.” Her eyes twinkled as she added, “What I can promise, however, is that I’ll always do my best for everyone. I stand for what the Sentinels represent and do what they do every day—protecting lives above all else.”

  She winked.

  Valerie barely had time to react before Aurora took a step back, lifting off the ground in a graceful ascent. The glow of her aura intensified briefly as she spread her wings.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I must be away,” she called, pyfully blowing a kiss before bursting into the sky at top speed.

  The wind whipped around her as she climbed higher, the city unfolding beneath her. The rush of the night’s events still buzzed in her veins. The encounter with Midnight Avenger. The battle with Jason. The victory. The respect earned.

  Tonight had proven something. The st several months had proven something.

  She was more than just another new hero.

  She was Aurora, San Isidro’s Guardian Angel.

  A HERO IS BORN, NOT MADE, BUT THE POWER THEY WIELD? THOSE ARE RARELY OF THEIR OWN CHOOSING!

  Mutations! Alien Empowerment! Technology! And of course... Magic!

  Welcome back, intrepid readers, to the astonishing and audacious adventures of the one and only AURORA!

  But hold onto your hats, true believers, because this time, we’re not just talking about battling baddies in the streets—no, no, no! Our fiery heroine is about to face her greatest challenge yet—and it’s not just about stopping crime!

  You see, though Aurora has now formally joined the Society of Sentinels, she’s still green—her skills raw, her potential untapped! That’s why the Society has summoned her to the legendary Sentinel’s Kitchen! A high-octane hero boot camp where new talents are forged in fire and only the best of the best rise to the top! And guess what? She’s about to be trained by hard-hitting regur members like the Midnight Avenger himself! Can our fledgling champion survive the gauntlet and prove her mettle?

  But wait—there’s more! Mistral’s been guarding secrets, secrets that won’t stay buried for long!

  And Leona? She’s got her hands full—juggling training, hero work, and flying off to Saskatoon for some much-needed cuddle time with Mistral! And back home, Sarah’s shaking off her parents’ chains, embracing her newfound independence with reckless abandon!

  Meanwhile, the clock is ticking for Quinn—college in sunny California is calling, and soon, the Ramses household will be one loud voice quieter. Can Leona hold everything together while the fires of change burn bright all around her?

  New friendships! New enemies! A hideout fit for a hero! And the moment when Aurora’s legend truly begins! And what’s this… a mysterious man appears in Kirby’s precinct with peculiar habits. Will this strange man be one of Aurora’s greatest allies or one of her deadliest nemeses?

  So don’t blink, don’t turn that page too fast, and for the love of all things superluminal—don’t miss what’s coming next!