Book 1: The T-Factor
CHAPTER 4: A SONG IN THE STATIC
For a long time after he saw the air glow, Leo just sat at his window, waiting for the world to end.
It didn't.
Dawn came, ordinary and cruel. The eerie luminescence over Stark Tower faded with the stars, swallowed by the bland blue of a late spring morning. But the hum remained, no longer just a sound, but a physical companion now—a second heartbeat tuned to a frequency only he could hear, vibrating in his teeth, his bones, the fillings in his molars. The air still felt charged, thick with the promise of a lightning strike that refused to fall.
The normalcy was the worst part. His mother made pancakes. His father muttered about grid fluctuations. The news cycled through the same vague reports. It was Monday. He had to go to school.
---
Seven hours before the sky tore open, he sat in the library during free period, trying to find a quiet corner to think. His usual spot—behind the outdated encyclopedias—was occupied by Marcus, who was hunched over a radio scanner, and Jake, who was spinning a basketball on his finger despite the librarian's death glares.
"You're gonna get us kicked out," Molly whispered, sketching Jake's profile in her notebook.
"Relax, my talents are being appreciated," Jake grinned, but put the ball down.
Leo scanned the room and saw another small table free near the science section. He made his way over, dropped his backpack, and pulled out his physics book. He was just starting to read when a soft voice interrupted.
"Oh, sorry. Is this taken?"
He looked up. Gwen Stacy stood there, a stack of advanced chemistry books in her arms, her blonde hair pulled into a messy but efficient ponytail. She was smiling politely.
Behind her, at a larger table, Peter Parker was meticulously sketching what looked like a double-helix in the margin of his notebook, while Mary Jane Watson read a dog-eared copy of The Bell Jar, one foot tapping rhythmically against the table leg.
"Uh, no," Leo said. "It's free."
"Cool." Gwen slid into the chair opposite him. "Thanks. Everywhere else is…" She gestured vaguely at the noisy clusters of students.
"Yeah." Leo kept his head down, focusing on his book. He could feel the clear, focused signal of her concentration—a single, pure note of intellectual energy. It was calming in a way, compared to the chaotic emotional noise of the library.
Across the room, Jake caught his eye and raised his eyebrows, mouthing "Gwen Stacy?" with a grin. Leo shook his head slightly.
Gwen didn't try to make conversation. She opened her textbook and dove in. For a few minutes, there was just the sound of pages turning and distant chatter.
Then Peter Parker got up to return a book. As he passed their table, his foot caught on the leg of Gwen's chair. He stumbled, his hand shooting out to steady himself on Leo's shoulder.
The contact lasted less than a second.
For Leo, it was an explosion.
A shockwave of sensation—not through his Telepathy, but through his Technopathy and Terrain Sense combined. Peter's touch wasn't just physical. It carried a bizarre, hyper-charged energy signature. It felt like touching a live power line wrapped in spider silk—immense, controlled power thrumming just beneath the skin, masked by something sticky and strange. And his biology… it was all wrong. His density was off, his cellular resonance was layered, as if his body was reinforcing itself on a molecular level every second.
Peter yanked his hand back as if burned. "Whoa! Sorry, man! Clumsy."
"It's fine," Leo mumbled, reeling internally. His own powers buzzed in response, a sympathetic vibration. The hum in his teeth spiked, harmonizing unnervingly with the residual energy from Peter's touch.
Peter's eyes, wide behind his glasses, met Leo's for a fraction of a second too long. There was a flash of something in them—not recognition, but a sudden, intense scrutiny. It was the look of one hidden thing sensing another.
Then it was gone, replaced by Peter's usual, apologetic awkwardness. "Really, sorry. Don't know what's with me today."
Gwen smiled, shaking her head. "Smooth, Parker."
Peter gave a nervous laugh and scurried back to his table. MJ looked up from her book, her sharp green eyes missing nothing. She glanced from Peter's retreating back to Leo's face, her expression unreadable.
Gwen turned back to her work, but Leo's focus was shattered. The brief contact had been a revelation. Peter Parker wasn't just a smart, jumpy kid. He was… something else. Something powered. Something hiding.
Leo's thoughts were interrupted by the scrape of chairs. Jake, Marcus, and Molly descended on the table.
"Making new friends, Leo?" Jake asked, plopping down without invitation. Marcus slid in next to him, his scanner now emitting a soft, rhythmic static.
Boom-boom-boom-bzzzt.
Gwen looked up, a little startled but not unfriendly. "Hey, Jake. Molly."
"Hey, Gwen," Molly said, giving a small smile as she sat next to Leo.
Jake leaned in, ignoring Gwen's textbooks. "Check it out. Marcus's thing is picking up that signal again. The creepy one."
Marcus held up the scanner. The pattern repeated, cold and mechanical.
Gwen's scientific curiosity overrode her politeness. "What is that? It sounds patterned."
"That's what we're trying to figure out," Marcus said, his voice low. "It's all over the city. Getting stronger."
Leo's Technopathy flared in recognition. Mapping grid sector F-7. Assimilation 92% complete. The knowledge was intrusive, unwanted. He reached out and adjusted a dial on the scanner's side, his fingers brushing the plastic. The signal cleared for a moment, sharpening into a clearer, more aggressive pulse before dissolving back into white noise.
Marcus stared at him. "How'd you do that?"
"Lucky guess," Leo muttered, pulling his hand back. He could feel Gwen's eyes on him now, curious and analytical.
"Probably just interference from the subway," Gwen offered, but she didn't sound convinced. She was listening to the static with a scientist's ear.
"Or aliens," Jake said, only half-joking.
From across the library, Peter was watching them now, his earlier clumsiness forgotten. He was focused on the scanner, on the tense set of Leo's shoulders. MJ followed his gaze, her expression thoughtful.
"Whatever it is," Molly said softly, closing her sketchbook, "it doesn't sound good."
The bell rang, signaling the end of free period. Gwen gathered her books quickly. "Well. Good luck with your… signal." She gave them a polite nod and headed toward Peter and MJ's table.
As Leo stood, he saw Peter say something to Gwen, his eyes flicking toward Leo once more. Gwen shrugged, replying, and they left together, MJ trailing behind with one last, appraising look over her shoulder.
"Weirdos," Jake said, but without malice. "Come on, let's get to class."
Leo walked out with his friends, Marcus still fiddling with his scanner, Jake talking about the upcoming game, Molly quiet beside him. But his mind was reeling. The library had been a collision of worlds. The clear, bright energy of Gwen's intellect. The tangled, powerful mystery of Peter Parker. The perceptive stillness of MJ.
And his own friends—loyal, loud, scared—grounding him in the reality he was trying so hard to protect.
The hum in his teeth seemed to pulse in time with the memory of Peter's strange energy. You're not the only one, it seemed to whisper.
He wasn't sure if that was a comfort or a threat.
---
Tuesday. Six hours to zero.
"You're doing it again," Molly said softly.
They were walking home after school, detouring through the park. Jake and Marcus had peeled off to shoot hoops, leaving the two of them in a comparative quiet.
"Doing what?" Leo asked, though he knew.
"That thing where you go somewhere else." She nudged his shoulder with hers. "You get this look. Like you're listening to a song none of us can hear."
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Just tired."
"Leo." She stopped walking, forcing him to stop too. "My dad… he got that look right before he lost his job. Like he could see the bad news coming. It's a scared look." She hugged her sketchbook to her chest. "You can tell me if you're scared."
The sincerity in her voice was a physical weight. Molly wasn't probing like Haskins. She was reaching out. She was a friend.
He looked at her—the genuine concern in her green eyes, the faint smudge of charcoal on her cheek. He wanted to tell her. The sky is going to rip open. I remember it happening somewhere else. I have powers I don't understand. The words sat on his tongue, bitter and impossible.
"I'm just worried about the physics final," he said, the lameness of the lie hanging between them.
She studied him for a long moment, then nodded, accepting the retreat. "Okay. But the offer stands. For anything." She started walking again, a little ahead of him. He felt a pang of guilt, sharp and clean. He was pushing away one of the few people who genuinely cared.
As they passed a playground, a little girl on a swing suddenly pitched backward, her grip slipping. Molly gasped.
Leo's Time Tap showed it: the girl falling, head cracking against the rubberized pavement.
He didn't have time for subtlety. He focused on the chain of the swing. Tactile Telekinesis—a brief, hard yank from five feet away.
The swing jerked violently, not backward, but sideways. The girl tumbled off, landing in the soft wood chips with a surprised yelp, unhurt.
Molly rushed forward to help her up. Leo hung back, his heart hammering. That hadn't been quiet. That had been a visible, unnatural jerk of metal.
Molly comforted the girl, then looked back at Leo, her expression puzzled. "Did you see that? The swing just… moved."
"Weird," Leo said, his voice flat.
She helped the girl find her mother, then came back to him. She didn't mention the swing again. But for the rest of the walk, her silence was thoughtful, charged with unasked questions.
---
Wednesday. Four hours to zero.
The tension in the city was a live wire. In homeroom, a news alert flashed on the smartboard: UNEXPLAINED ENERGY SPIKE OVER MIDTOWN. The teacher quickly switched it off, but the damage was done. A nervous chatter filled the room.
At lunch, their table was a war council of anxiety. They'd claimed their usual spot in the cafeteria, far from where Peter, Gwen, and MJ sat with their own group.
"My dad's station got a shipment of battlefield triage kits," Jake said, uncharacteristically solemn, poking at his mashed potatoes. "Not the regular stuff. The kind they used after the Union City explosion."
"My cousin's subcontracting job at the Stark warehouse got cancelled," Marcus added. "They told him 'assets were being reallocated to priority defensive measures.' He said they're building something big under the Tower. Something that isn't a reactor."
Molly just listened, her sketchbook open to a page filled not with portraits, but with dark, swirling shapes that looked like storm clouds or distant, skeletal ships.
Leo listened to his friends voice the dread he'd been feeling for weeks. They were piecing together the edges of the truth without the nightmares, without the hum, without the memories of Thera. They were scared because they were perceptive, not because they were haunted.
It made him feel less alone, and more terrified for them.
Across the cafeteria, he saw Peter Parker get up abruptly, his head snapping toward the window as if he'd heard something no one else had. Gwen said something to him, her face concerned. Peter shook his head, but his posture remained tense, ready. MJ watched him, then her eyes scanned the room, landing briefly on Leo's table before moving on.
"Whatever it is," Jake said, slamming his fist softly on the table, "we stick together, okay? If something weird goes down, we meet at my place. My dad's turning the basement into a panic room. Seriously."
"Deal," Marcus said.
Molly nodded.
All three looked at Leo.
He looked at their faces—Jake's fierce loyalty, Marcus's nervous intelligence, Molly's quiet strength. These were his people. This was what he had to protect.
"Yeah," he said, his voice rough. "Together."
It was a promise he intended to keep. He just didn't know if he could keep it by staying with them.
---
Thursday. One hour to zero.
The last bell of the week rang with a sound that felt final. Students flooded the halls, a river of relieved noise, unaware they were racing toward a waterfall.
Leo walked out with his friends. Jake was already talking about weekend plans that would never happen. Marcus was scanning the strangely green-tinged sky with his phone. Molly walked beside Leo, her shoulder brushing his.
As they hit the front steps, the world felt hyper-real. Leo's senses were dialed to eleven.
He also saw the other trio—Peter, Gwen, and MJ—by the bike racks. Peter was looking at his phone, his face pale. Gwen was speaking to him rapidly, pointing at the sky. MJ had her arms crossed, her posture tense, watching the street. They looked like they were waiting for something. Or someone.
For a fleeting second, Peter's eyes swept across the crowd and met Leo's. There was a jolt, a flicker of that strange, mutual awareness—two hidden things passing in the daylight. Peter gave a curt, almost imperceptible nod. A gesture between soldiers who'd never spoken. You feel it too.
Then Peter turned back to Gwen, his focus snapping to her with protective intensity.
"You know him?" Molly asked quietly, following Leo's gaze.
"Not really," Leo said. "Just a guy from class."
Jake slapped Leo on the back. "Come on, man. Weekend! Let's go get a slice before the world ends or whatever."
They turned to walk toward the pizza place. Leo took one last look over his shoulder. Peter, Gwen, and MJ were gone, vanished into the gathering crowd.
He walked with his friends, laughing at Jake's terrible jokes, listening to Marcus's latest theory, feeling the solid, real presence of Molly beside him. This was his life. These were his people.
The hum peaked, shifting from a drone to a piercing, single note that felt like a knife in his brain. It was the sound of a key turning in a cosmic lock.
He stopped walking, clutching his head.
"Leo?" Molly's hand was on his arm. "What's wrong?"
Before he could answer, the first shockwave hit. It wasn't a sound. It was a compression of reality itself, a deep thud that vibrated up from the ground through their shoes. Car alarms erupted down the block. The sky above Stark Tower shimmered, warped, and then ripped.
Blue light, terrible and beautiful, poured from the tear. And through it, silent as sharks, the ships began to descend.
Jake's joke died on his lips. Marcus's scanner shrieked with alien feedback. Molly's hand tightened on Leo's arm, her knuckles white.
Chaos.
Screaming.
The invasion had begun.
Leo looked at his friends' terrified faces, then up at the raining doom. The time for hiding was over. The time for quiet help had arrived.
END OF CHAPTER 4