Manhattan.
East Village.
Palm Community.
A yellow Corolla pulled up the slope and into the garage of the orange-walled villa Hawk had bought a month ago.
As Gwen steered the car in, the automatic garage doors slid open, revealing another vehicle already parked inside—a sleek black Audi A8.
Hawk had bought it right after moving here.
Since then, Gwen's Corolla was rarely touched on school days.
Don't ask why.
Because Hawk's pride wouldn't let him "hitch rides" with his girlfriend—while Gwen couldn't care less.
By now, the A8's passenger seat was molded perfectly to Gwen's figure.
Gwen got out, grabbed the grocery bags from the Corolla's trunk, and headed through the side door into the living room.
From the backyard came the steady, thunderous rhythm of fists pounding.
She glanced over.
As expected—
He was at it again.
Her lips curved in a smile. Dropping the keys and bags on the counter, she picked up a towel from the coffee table and strolled out to the back.
There in the yard, the heavy bag hung from the old tree, groaning under Hawk's relentless assault.
Bare-chested, muscles rippling, Hawk's body steamed with rising white mist, like battlefield smoke.
Gwen leaned against the railing, quietly watching.
Then Hawk unleashed his ten-thousandth punch of the day.
Boom!
The bag shuddered, split open, and stuffing spilled to the ground.
Gwen arched a brow.
"That's number ten? Or eleven?"
"Eleven," Hawk replied, glancing at the wrecked bag.
She tossed him the towel. "Go shower. I'll cook. Mom taught me a new recipe yesterday."
"Alright."
He wiped the nonexistent sweat from his brow, smiling faintly as he followed her back inside.
Gwen carried the groceries to the kitchen. Hawk climbed the stairs to the master suite.
Under the shower's spray, steam rose from him like smoke columns. Within the haze, faint shapes of a dragon and a phoenix flickered.
He closed his eyes, sinking his mind into his Microcosmos, lifting his gaze to the starry sky within.
What he saw—
Once lit only by Phoenix—was now joined by a second constellation.
Phoenix, wings spread to the west.
Dragon, head raised in the east.
The constellations stood side by side, like two guardians watching over one another.
Yes.
The Dragon had awakened.
Back at Calvary Cemetery, he had traced its outline.
But only five days ago did he truly ignite it.
After returning from Quantico, he had felt the time was right. He'd delayed his trip to Africa to light the Dragon first.
Sharpen the blade before the battle.
And when it flared to life, he knew he'd chosen wisely.
The Microcosmos defined a Saint's power.
The stronger the cosmos, the stronger the Saint.
And with Dragon's constellation burning beside Phoenix, his cosmos expanded with real, tangible strength.
Not illusion—truth.
His once-narrow cosmos, barely fitting Phoenix's star chart, now easily contained both—and still had room.
But Phoenix remained the core.
Phoenix was first. Phoenix was his heart.
Yet now he also bore the Dragon's might—its fierce power, its shield of protection.
And more—
Lighting Dragon brought him to the threshold of something greater.
At last, he had glimpsed the gate of the Sixth Sense.
He hadn't even known where it was before.
Now he saw it.
And seeing it meant he could reach it.
Push it open, claim the Sixth Sense, and ascend his cosmos once again.
So while digging for intel on Wakanda online, he also tried to press forward toward that gate.
But…
The Sixth Sense was visible—yet untouchable.
As for Wakanda?
He couldn't wait until summer. In a few days, he'd ask his advisor for leave, then head to Africa.
He already had his admission letter for NYU's fall semester. The last term didn't matter much.
Many classmates were the same—those with offers were already leaving.
Some worked jobs to save money.
Some visited their future campuses.
Some simply stayed home.
The school didn't mind, as long as graduation in June and the prom afterward weren't missed.
Later—
When Hawk came down freshly dressed in the clothes Gwen had picked out for him the past weekend, she had breakfast ready.
His eyes lit up. "Wow."
"Well?" Gwen asked with a smile, seeking his verdict.
He grew solemn. "Honestly, what would I do without you?"
"Then don't lose me," she shot back, mock-serious—before grinning. "Now eat, and tell me how it tastes."
He sat. She resumed copying recipes onto cards, a tradition passed down through families here.
Cards to be kept, copied, and one day given to a daughter.
"By the way," Hawk said between bites, "you're leaving for Berkeley next week, right?"
"Mm," Gwen nodded. "Two months. Back at the end of May."
Perfect timing.
While she toured Berkeley—
He'd tour Wakanda.
Perfect.
After breakfast, they tidied up, then stepped out front.
Today's job: mowing the lawn.
A joke, but true—here, leave your grass uncut and you'll be fined.
Same for hanging laundry outside.
Some states even fined for planting vegetables.
Luckily, the previous owner had left a mower in the shed.
As Hawk pushed it out, Gwen checked it over with practiced hands.
Again, Hawk couldn't help but sigh. "Honestly, what would I do without you?"
She looked up at him, eyes steady. "For the last time—don't lose me."
The mower coughed to life.
Though Gwen lived in an apartment, her grandfather had been a farmer. She knew her way around machines.
So Hawk, under her direction, cut the lawn.
The neighbors peeked out. Some shut their doors. Others brought out their own mowers.
Soon the whole community hummed with engines.
By the time Hawk finished the two front lawns, it was nearly eleven.
Gwen had plans to shop with Mary that afternoon.
As she backed the car out, Hawk called with a smile, "I'll pick you up tomorrow morning."
She nodded, waved, and drove off.
Hawk turned to clean the mower.
But suddenly—
The gate of the Sixth Sense shuddered violently.
An instant later—
A surge of power roared from him as he snapped his gaze toward the direction Gwen had driven.
…
(End of Chapter)
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