Let's reach 250 Power Stones for an extra chapter
***
My shift at The Daily Grind finally ended, but the weird feeling didn't go away. It was still there, a knot in my stomach, making feel like I was missing sothing huge. Ethan and Olivia were off to so big eting with Tony Stark, and I was just… here.
I kept replaying the scene at the cafeteria table, the way Gwen and Ethan had leaned in close, whispering about "signals" and "Apemon." It felt like a secret club I wasn't a part of, even though Ethan was my friend. And then Gwen asking for help with Renamon's evolution, like it was a normal thing. Did they just forget I exist for a second?
It really made wonder. How long had this been going on? What else happened during those months I was in a coma, just lying there, completely out of the loop? Did Gwen and Ethan start dating? They seed pretty comfortable with each other, all that easy banter and shared glances. And if they were, why hadn't anyone said anything? Why was Ethan still so... nice to , almost like he was leading on? My thoughts just swirled, hitting a wall every ti I tried to find an answer. It was a frustrating circle.
Back in Olivia's apartnt, I walked straight to my room, the silence a little too loud. The apartnt was still new to , a temporary place. It wasn't ho. I pulled out my white spandex bodysuit, the blue sash, and the pink wig. These were my new things. This was my new .
This is what I am now, I thought, pulling on the sleek fabric. It felt like a second skin, a shell. Jewel.
[SUIT ZIPPING UP]
The wig settled on my head, the bright pink a stark contrast to my usually dark hair. It was a disguise, sure, but it also felt like a statent. Like I was finally stepping into the light, even if it was just a spotlight I made for myself.
[GLOVES SNAPPING ON]
I made my way to the fire escape, the cool tal railing under my hand a familiar comfort. The city stretched out before , a sprawling canvas of lights and shadows. It was ti to clear my head. It was ti to fly.
[WIND RUSHING]
I leaped, launching myself into the night, the air rushing past in a thrilling blur. The city lights blurred below, a distant hum replacing the anxious thoughts that had plagued all day. This was it. This was my purpose.
I flew across the city, the wind a cool rush against my face. My thoughts kept circling back to Ethan and Gwen, the way they seed to understand each other without words. It stung a little, that feeling of being on the outside again, like I was back to being the invisible girl. But I am not that girl anymore, I reminded myself. I am Jewel now.
Landing softly on a high rooftop, I scanned the streets below. The city was a maze of light and shadow, and I felt a pang of longing for the simplicity of my old life, even with all its problems.
Suddenly, a frantic ow cut through the quiet night. I spotted a small commotion in a nearby park. A crowd had gathered around a tall tree, all looking up. A cat, a tiny ball of fluff, was stuck high in the branches, its cries echoing, sounding so scared. No one could reach it.
I took a running start, leaping across the gap between the buildings, the air montarily holding as I soared. I landed softly on a branch above the cat, the wood barely creaking under my weight. Gently, I scooped up the trembling animal. Its fur was soft against my suit.
[THUMP]
I dropped down, handing the purring cat to a grateful woman.
"Oh, thank you, Jewel! You saved my Mittens!" she cried, clutching the cat to her chest.
I just gave a small nod, already turning away. I disappeared back into the shadows before anyone could ask questions. I was Jewel, after all, and heroes didn't stick around for applause.
I flew through the night, the cool air doing little to soothe the simring frustration inside . The cat rescue was nice, sure, but it felt small. Too small. I was out here, in this ridiculous costu, feeling like I was ant for sothing more. Ethan and Gwen were off doing... whatever it was they did. Super-secret etings with Tony Stark. And ? I was saving cats. It just didn't feel right.
I spotted a quieter residential street, the houses mostly dark, a few porch lights glowing like sleepy eyes. Then I saw her. A woman, pacing on her porch, wringing her hands like she was trying to squeeze the worry right out of them. Her shoulders were hunched, her head down. She looked utterly distressed.
I landed silently in the alley across the street, letting the shadows swallow . I took a deep breath, pushing down my own anxieties. This was why I was out here, right? To help people.
I stepped out of the alley, my boots making hardly a sound on the pavent.
"Everything alright?" I asked, my voice softer than I intended, a little hesitant, but still trying for that confident hero vibe.
The woman jumped, startled, her eyes wide as she finally noticed .
"Oh! Jewel! I… I didn't see you there." She put a hand to her chest, trying to steady her breathing. "No, everything's not alright. My son, Marcus, he never ca ho from school."
Her voice was thick with fear, a raw, desperate sound that twisted sothing inside .
"He's usually so good about calling," she continued, her gaze darting up and down the empty street. "I just… I have a bad feeling. I think he might have gotten mixed up with that gang."
"Which gang?" I asked, my posture attentive. I tried to project calm, reassuring energy, even though my stomach was doing little flips. This was real. This wasn't a school bus or a cat.
She wrung her hands even harder, her voice trembling.
"The Scorpions. They've been recruiting around here, trying to get all the kids into their… their ss." She shivered. "They have these tattoos, you know? Scorpions, on their necks. They're a bad crowd."
The fear in her eyes was palpable, a stark, open wound. It was the kind of fear I knew all too well, the kind that ca when you felt utterly helpless. A surge of determination went through . This was it. This was exactly the kind of problem I needed to solve. This was my chance to actually do sothing.
I looked her in the eye, trying to make my voice steady and strong.
"I promise you, I'll find Marcus," I said, the words feeling heavy and important. "I'll bring him ho safely."
A wave of relief washed over her face, like a cloud lifting. She reached into her pocket, her hand shaking slightly, and pulled out a worn, folded photograph. She pressed it into my gloved hand. It was a picture of a boy, no older than sixteen, with a hesitant smile. He had kind eyes, despite his nervousness. I took it, my grip firm.
I had a face to look for, and a promise to keep. This felt real. This felt like my mission.
***
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