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Chapter 25: Dad Was Taken by the Sand
🕑 Added 2025-10-07 15:45:53 +0000 UTC
“Strange… Daddy should be home.”
The clever little girl decided to go around the back. Sure enough, the kitchen window wasn’t locked, so she climbed in through it.
“Daddy? Daddy, are you here?”
She called out while searching the rooms—but the house was completely empty. Her father was nowhere to be found.
What caught her attention most was the sand—piled up thickly in the entryway and along the hallway floor, enough to block the front door completely. A trail of sand stretched all the way up the stairs.
Summoning her courage, the little girl followed the trail upstairs. But all she found was more sand—leading straight to her father’s bedroom.
When she entered, she saw that the bedroom window was open… and the sand trail continued right out the window.
The smart girl immediately knew something was wrong. She picked up the phone and called the police.
---
“I waited two whole days,” the girl said softly, looking up at Lucas and Skye with wide, pleading eyes. “The police didn’t find my daddy. So I asked for help online instead. You’ll find him for me, right?”
Her big, innocent eyes melted Skye’s heart on the spot. She thumped her chest confidently.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll definitely find your dad. Can you tell me your name and your father’s name?”
Skye spun her laptop around, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she hacked into a certain database—its logo a large, bold F surrounded by a government seal.
“My daddy’s name is Flint Marko,” the girl said clearly. “And my name’s Keemia Marko.”
Within seconds, Flint Marko’s file popped up on Skye’s screen—but most of it was blacked out. Redacted.
That alone told her this man was far from ordinary.
She turned the laptop to show Lucas. He frowned. “Yeah… this guy’s definitely not your average construction worker.”
“You know what your father does for a living?” Lucas asked the girl gently.
“My daddy works for a construction company. I have his business card.”
She dug into her little shoulder bag and handed over a slightly bent card.
It had Flint Marko’s name, phone number, and the name of a company neither of them had ever heard of.
“Skye, check out this company,” Lucas said, handing the card to her.
In truth, the name Flint Marko rang a bell for Lucas. It wasn’t his real name—his real name was William Baker, better known to Spider-Man fans as Sandman.
Still, to be sure it wasn’t just a coincidence, he had Skye verify it.
Sandman was one of Spider-Man’s classic villains—a small-time crook who’d stumbled into a desert experiment site and, by sheer bad luck, been transformed by it. He gained the power to manipulate sand—able to reshape himself into towering giants, shrug off physical attacks, and reform endlessly. The man was basically a walking, talking version of a “Sand-Sand Fruit” user.
After some digging, Skye finally pulled up the unredacted file. Sure enough—Flint Marko was a fake identity. His real name was indeed William Baker.
Sandman.
And the little girl before them—Keemia—was his daughter, the one who, in Lucas’s past life knowledge, had been born with a terminal illness.
Yet looking at her now—bright-eyed, healthy, full of energy—there was no trace of sickness at all.
To confirm his suspicion, Lucas asked Skye to pull up Keemia’s medical history—every record from birth to now.
The results were clear: she had never had any serious disease. The worst thing on record was a bout of pneumonia caused by a high fever—easily treated with modern medicine.
What’s going on? Lucas wondered silently. Why is it different from what I remember?
Maybe this was just how the real world worked—things didn’t always follow movie logic.
Lucas smiled softly, reached out, and ruffled Keemia’s hair. “Alright. We’ll take your case.”
The little girl’s face lit up immediately. She rummaged through her bag and pulled out a small plush cat. Around its neck hung a tiny silver whistle.
“This is my most precious thing,” she said seriously. “You can have it as payment for helping me, okay?”
It was clear she had no money—and this was all she could offer. The toy had once belonged to her late mother.
Skye tugged at Lucas’s sleeve and whispered, “Boss, maybe we just deduct the fee from my salary. She’s just a kid—she can’t pay for a commission like this.”
Her big eyes were full of both worry and hope.
Lucas grinned. “You said it yourself.”
He hadn’t planned to take the girl’s money anyway—but now that Skye volunteered her pay, he couldn’t help but think about how to “maximize the opportunity.”
Skye nodded enthusiastically, smiling brightly—completely unaware her boss was already scheming like a seasoned cheapskate.
Lucas took the stuffed cat from Keemia’s hands, then gently unhooked the silver whistle and returned it to her.
“Alright,” he said. “I’ll accept the plush toy as payment. You keep the whistle—it’s important to you.”
“Really? Isn’t that too little?” Keemia blinked in surprise.
Lucas shook his head. “Nope. This is more than enough.”
“Yay! Thank you, big brother—and thank you too, big sister!” she said sweetly, clutching her whistle.
“Alright then,” Lucas smiled. “Skye will walk you home. I’ll start looking for your dad.”
Once Skye left with the girl, the office grew quiet. Lucas leaned back in his chair, frowning in thought.
“Hmm… where to start…”
After a moment, he remembered what Peter and Gwen had encountered at the graduation dance the night before. The mysterious sand there couldn’t be a coincidence.
He grabbed his phone and dialed Gwen.
“Lucas? What’s up?”
Gwen’s voice came through the speaker. She was in the middle of packing her things for MIT, putting him on speakerphone.
“Yesterday—you and Peter, at the accident scene. Did you find anything?”
Gwen thought for a moment. “Not really. There was a ton of sand everywhere—it caused a huge traffic jam. Peter and I were focused on rescuing people. Nothing suspicious that we could see.”
“How did the sand appear? Were there any overturned dump trucks or construction vehicles around?”
“No… none. Not even one large vehicle.”
“I see. Got it.”
Lucas frowned. So nothing useful there.
“Why are you asking?” Gwen asked curiously.
“I just took on a commission,” Lucas said. “A little girl’s father went missing—she says he was taken away by sand. Since both incidents involved random sand appearing out of nowhere, I thought maybe they were connected.”
“Oh? You actually got your first client?” Gwen said, suddenly intrigued.
