The alarm buzzed at 6:30 AM.
Ike slapped the snooze button, groaning like a zombie as he rolled over. The blanket twisted around his legs, but he didn’t care. His eyes barely cracked open before he yanked the covers over his face.
Five more minutes.
“Ike!” his mom’s voice called from the kitchen. “Get up! I'm making you cereal!”
He groaned louder and kicked the blanket off. The air in his room was cold — always was. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes and yawning big enough to pop his jaw. Posters peeled slightly from the walls. A cracked phone charger dangled from the outlet next to his bed.
He pulled on his usual black hoodie and jeans — the same pair he wore most weeks unless his mom caught them in the laundry.
In the bathroom, he stared at himself for a second. Same tired eyes. Same curls that never listened. He splashed some water on his face, then dragged himself into the kitchen.
His mom was already there, dressed in scrubs and sipping coffee with one hand while scrolling through her phone with the other. She had poured a bowl of Frosted Flakes for him — his usual.
"Look who’s finally alive," she teased without looking up.
Ike grunted and flopped into the chair. “Barely.”
"You get any sleep?" she asked, setting her phone down.
“Sort of. Ned texted me until like midnight.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What was it this time? Something about hacking NASA?”
Ike smirked. “Just a museum sneak peek.”
“Ohhh,” she nodded. “That science trip, right? You excited?”
He shrugged, poking his spoon into the cereal. “It’s just a museum.”
She gave him a playful look. “You always say that — and then come back talking about tech and black holes like a mini professor.”
Ike smiled but stayed quiet. He didn’t always show it, but he liked how she noticed stuff like that.
She sat across from him and sipped her coffee slowly. “I know you don’t love school stuff, but try to have fun today. You get out of class, see something cool, and you’ve got Ned with you. Sounds like a win.”
“I guess,” Ike muttered, mouth full of cereal.
“Oh, and tell Ned I said hey. And to stop sending those weird robot memes at 2 a.m.”
He chuckled. “I’ll tell him.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the sound of the cereal crunch filling the kitchen. The morning sunlight peeked through the blinds, casting lines across the table.
Then she looked at the clock and stood up. “Alright, I gotta go. Don’t forget your permission slip. It’s on the counter.”
“I got it,” Ike said, already stuffing the last few spoonfuls into his mouth.
She leaned down, kissed the top of his head, and grabbed her keys. “Love you.”
“Love you,” he said softly.
Ike walked to school with his hood up, earbuds in, hands in his pockets. The sky was gray, that kind of early morning haze where the city didn’t feel awake yet. The sidewalks were quiet except for a few early commuters, and the occasional honk echoing from blocks away.
The school wasn’t far. Just a few blocks, past the deli, across the corner with the blinking traffic light that never worked right. He kept to himself, eyes forward, music low.
When he got there, the buses weren’t even lined up yet. Students were gathered outside, yawning and stretching, some still clutching coffee cups like their lives depended on it. A couple teachers stood near the front steps with clipboards, checking off names.
Mr. Parker, their science teacher, called out, “We’re waiting on five more! Don’t wander off!”
Ike stood off to the side until Ned spotted him.
“There you are, man!” Ned said, walking over. He held a plastic bag of snacks in one hand and some tablet-looking device in the other. “I thought you overslept.”
“I almost did,” Ike said.
“You ready to see real laser robots and top-secret tech?” Ned asked, eyes wide. “I looked at the floor map last night. They’ve got this whole section on artificial intelligence and some Oscorp experiments they haven’t even announced yet!”
Ike smirked. “You probably know more than the tour guides already.”
“Oh, I do,” Ned said, proudly. “But I plan to ask a lot of questions just to see them sweat.”
They talked for a bit while students slowly trickled in. One kid forgot their permission slip. Another showed up still brushing their hair. Eventually, all the names were checked off.
“Alright,” Mr. Parker clapped his hands. “Let’s move it! Bus is waiting!”
The class started loading into the bus, two by two. Ike and Ned sat in their usual spot — middle row, next to the window.
The inside smelled like old leather, gum under the seats, and burnt engine. The windows were foggy from everyone’s breath. Someone in the back was already blasting music on their phone until a teacher told them to turn it off.
Ned pulled out his tablet again and whispered, “Okay, hear me out — what if the goo in the bio lab isn’t just goo, but like a biotech experiment made to copy human cells?”
Ike gave him a look. “You’ve been watching too many sci-fi movies.”
“I live in sci-fi movies,” Ned said, dead serious.
Ike laughed a little. “Alright, fine. If some weird goo starts moving, I’ll call you first.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
They sat back and let the bus roll through the city, the buildings changing from regular brick apartments to bigger, shinier glass towers the closer they got to Midtown.
Two hours and way too much traffic later, they finally arrived in the city.
“Alright, stay with your assigned groups!” Mr. Parker yelled as everyone unloaded. “We are guests. Don’t make me regret coming out here today.”
The museum was five blocks from where the bus dropped them off. The streets were packed — classic NYC — people yelling into phones, food carts everywhere, cabs nearly hitting pedestrians without even slowing down.
Ike walked with the group, shoulders low, eyes forward… until something caught his attention.
A man sprinted across the street, cutting off traffic. He wore a torn, almost armored-looking suit and had part of his face covered in some shiny metal. His movements were jerky, panicked. Behind him, two police officers chased, shouting at him to stop.
The tour guide quickly spoke up. “Eyes forward, everyone! Keep moving!”
Most of the group obeyed. Some kids were too busy laughing or checking their phones to care.
But Ike… Ike slowed down.
Then he heard it — a loud, heavy thud — followed by silence.
He turned.
The alley the man had run into was now dead quiet. The cops were gone. The man was on the ground, motionless.
Something shimmered next to him — a broken glass container. Leaking from it… was something black. It didn’t spill like liquid. It moved.
Ike stared.
The goo — or whatever it was — pulsed and shifted like it was alive.
He looked back toward the group. No one was paying attention.
His feet moved on their own.
As he stepped into the alley, he got a closer look. The man’s breathing was shallow. His face was pale. One eye cracked open.
“Don’t touch it…” the man rasped. “Leave… now…”
Ike hesitated. The goo slithered near his foot. It reached upward like it sensed him.
He should’ve left. Should’ve listened. But something about it… drew him in. Curiosity started to creep in. What was it?
He crouched.
His hand reached out before his brain could stop it.
“I said don’t—”
But it was too late.
The second his fingers brushed the edge, the goo snapped onto his skin. It crawled up his arm fast — too fast. It didn’t hurt, not exactly, but it burned in a weird way. Hot. Alive.
Ike gasped and yanked his hand back, stumbling away.
The goo was gone.
No — not gone.
Inside him.
His heart raced. His sleeve was torn at the wrist, but there was no trace of the black slime.
He looked at the man again, but he had passed out.
Ike backed away slowly, turned, and jogged back toward the group.
Ned spotted him. “Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere,” Ike said quickly. “Just… got turned around.”
He didn’t say much for the rest of the trip.
Didn’t speak on the ride back.
Didn’t even flinch when some kid dropped a soda can that rolled under his seat.
Something was off. Different. He could feel it under his skin, like electricity in his veins.
End of Issue 1
ns216.73.216.116da2
and then Add to home screen.