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Chapter 26: Another Accident Occurs
🕑 Added 2025-10-07 15:46:18 +0000 UTC
“Other than the sand, is there any real connection between the two incidents?” Gwen asked curiously.
“Not yet,” Lucas replied, rubbing his chin. “But I’ve got a theory that needs proving. My gut tells me that yesterday’s accident wasn’t just a coincidence.”
He couldn’t shake the feeling that Flint Marko’s disappearance and the sand-related traffic disaster were somehow linked—it was just that the missing piece of the puzzle hadn’t shown itself yet.
“Want me to help?” Gwen asked, closing her suitcase.
MIT wasn’t that far from New York—maybe 300 to 400 kilometers. A few hours by car. It wasn’t a big move, and she could come back anytime she wanted.
“Not for now,” Lucas said. “Focus on school. I’ll handle the rest.”
“Alright, but promise me—if something happens, call me.” Gwen’s tone was serious. Even if she had to, she’d come straight back to New York.
“Got it. Talk later.”
Lucas ended the call.
Just then, Skye returned—holding a small vial filled with sand from Keemia’s home.
The two examined it for a long while but came up empty-handed.
“It looks totally normal,” Skye muttered, frowning at the little bottle. “But her whole house was full of it.”
Lucas nodded thoughtfully. “Right… I want to see last night’s surveillance footage and the police’s case report.”
“On it.”
Within a minute, Skye’s fingers had danced across her keyboard, and the footage appeared on Lucas’s screen.
The video showed the accident from multiple city cameras. New York didn’t have that many public surveillance cameras—America, after all, prided itself on “freedom” and “privacy.”
Of course, Lucas thought wryly, that didn’t stop the government from planting hidden cameras and spy satellites to secretly monitor everything anyway.
There were only a few usable angles, and Lucas quickly skimmed through them.
The reason it went so fast was simple—all the footage cut out the moment the sand appeared. Every single camera lost its signal at the exact same time.
That was all the proof Lucas needed. This wasn’t an accident. Someone—or something—was behind it.
“Skye,” Lucas said, “I’ve got a job for you. Run facial recognition and find Keemia’s father. Something about all this isn’t adding up.”
“Got it.”
Skye immediately dove into her work, hacking into the Federal Bureau’s facial recognition system and beginning the search for Flint Marko.
But with millions of faces to scan, it wasn’t going to be quick. They’d have to wait.
Lucas didn’t just sit idle. He kept turning it over in his head—the sand, the timing, the two connected incidents. He couldn’t yet see the pattern, but he could feel it was there.
He decided to go check in with the NYPD.
But the moment he stepped outside, several police cars screamed past, sirens blaring—and overhead, a red-and-blue blur swung between the buildings.
“Lucas! Come look at this!”
Skye’s voice called from inside. She was watching the news—another live report.
Yet another traffic accident.
And once again, caused by a sudden, massive surge of sand.
This time, it was right on Manhattan Avenue, barely a block from their office. No wonder Lucas had seen the squad cars—and Spider-Man—rushing by.
Both he and Skye frowned as they watched the footage.
The scene was chaos—sandstorms whipping through the streets, cars piled up in a massive wreck. Engines were clogged with sand, cutting out instantly and triggering chain collisions.
“I need to see it for myself,” Lucas said, already heading for the door. “Stay inside, don’t leave the building.”
He sprinted down the block and reached the scene within minutes. Police had already cordoned off the area, and Spider-Man was working alongside firefighters and officers to rescue people trapped in their cars.
Among the chaos, Lucas spotted a familiar face—George, standing at the front lines barking orders.
“Hey, old man, what’s going on here?” Lucas called, grabbing his shoulder.
George turned, surprised. “Lucas?!” He immediately looked him over, checking for injuries. Clearly, he’d assumed Lucas was one of the accident victims.
Lucas quickly explained that he’d only seen the news and came to check things out. That eased George’s worry.
“Honestly, we don’t know much yet,” George said tersely. “We just got flooded with emergency calls—same story each time. Huge sandstorm out of nowhere. Cars wrecked, people trapped.”
He pointed down the street at the dunes of sand still swirling through the air.
“You shouldn’t be here—it’s dangerous.”
With that, George turned and ran back to help with the rescue efforts.
Lucas slipped away into a nearby alley. After checking to make sure no one was watching, a soft gust of wind swirled beneath his feet—and in an instant, he lifted off, landing quietly on a nearby rooftop.
From above, he could see the entire scene clearly.
He studied the intersection, the layout of the connecting streets, and the surrounding buildings.
That feeling returned—like the pieces of a puzzle were there, but just out of reach.
---
Meanwhile, in Washington D.C., inside the Triskelion.
“Coulson, what’s the situation in New York?” asked Director Nick Fury, his one visible eye fixed on the live news feed.
Across from him, Coulson flipped through a report. “According to the meteorological department, the incident area experienced an intense sandstorm—but the effect was limited to a single street. That’s definitely not a natural phenomenon.”
“So… man-made, then?” Fury said, turning toward him. “Find out who’s behind it. If someone caused it, I want a name.”
“Yes, Director.” Coulson stood, about to leave, when Fury stopped him.
“Where’s Natasha?”
“She’s already in New York,” Coulson replied. “Should be meeting the target today.”
Fury nodded. “Good. Have her look into the sand incidents while she’s there.”
“Understood.” Coulson left the room.
---
Back in New York—
The accident cleanup was nearly complete. The street was still blocked off, but all the injured had been rescued.
Landing silently back on the ground, Lucas frowned. That faint instinct tugged at him again—but he still couldn’t pinpoint the reason.
The two accident sites were connected by nearby streets, but they had nothing in common—different blocks, different traffic flow, no shared patterns.
He was still thinking when Skye’s voice came through his earpiece.
Ever since they’d taken on their first client, Skye had gotten so excited that she’d built Lucas a customized comms device—hacked into the Federal Communications Bureau and even S.H.I.E.L.D.’s secure networks.
With her upgrades, as long as those systems could connect, Lucas would never lose signal—anywhere in the world.
Lucas couldn’t help but grin. “Damn… Skye, you’re a genius.”
