The morning air smelled different in Indianapolis. Sharp, metallic, like steel rails and exhaust fumes, and something that reminded Alex vaguely of the labs he'd studied back in 2025. Not dangerous—at least, not yet—but definitely wrong in the way only a person who had lived once before could sense.
He pulled his jacket tighter and checked the rearview mirror of the rented sedan he had found in the small lot near the bus station. Not his first choice of transportation—he preferred two wheels—but this was efficient, quiet, and unobtrusive. The system hummed faintly in the background.
SYSTEM ALERT
New city detected. Observation recommended.
Skill applications available: Driving, Social Insight, Business Analysis.
Alex flexed his fingers on the steering wheel. Driving was almost automatic now. His mind was elsewhere—calculating routes, estimating supply availability for electronics repair work, noting potential property sites, and cataloguing patterns of human behaviour along the street.
It was strange how much freedom a small city offered compared to Hawkins. Everything was bigger, but not necessarily faster. People moved with a purpose, but it was shallow; small-town intuition still ruled the spaces between them. He smiled faintly.
That will be useful.
The first stop was an electronics supply store tucked between a diner and a laundromat. Neon lights flickered faintly above the window, advertising "TRANSISTORS, CIRCUITS, AND COMPONENTS." He pushed open the door and stepped inside, letting the bell announce him as he scanned the shelves. Rows of resistors, capacitors, soldering kits, and unfinished circuit boards spread out before him like a treasure trove.
"Looking for something specific?" A middle-aged clerk approached, wiping his hands on a rag. Grease smudged the front of his shirt.
"Yes," Alex said evenly. "Everything you've got for early computing experimentation."
The clerk blinked. "You mean… hobby stuff? We don't usually get requests for—uh… advanced builds from kids."
Alex shrugged. "I learn fast. And I pay in cash."
The clerk's expression shifted from suspicion to grudging respect. He nodded and started gathering supplies. Alex followed him silently, noting patterns in the layout, exits, and even the flicker in the fluorescent lights. System running quietly in the back of his mind: Observe. Learn. Maximize efficiency.
By noon, he had a modest haul of parts: wires, early microchips, soldering tools, and a small radio transmitter kit. Perfect for testing environmental anomalies once he returned to Hawkins.
On the way back, Alex stopped at a small diner for lunch. He sat at a booth near the window, a corner spot with a clear view of the street. While waiting for his burger and coffee, he watched people move through the day.
SYSTEM UPDATE
Social Insight: Minor increase.
Observed 17 patterns of behaviour in public settings.
He noted a man adjusting his tie while glancing repeatedly at a briefcase, a woman whispering hurriedly to her child, a group of teenagers clustered around a bike rack, laughing too loudly. Nothing extraordinary… yet. But small cues were like the first ripples of a storm.
Then he noticed her.
She stepped out of the diner across the street, dark hair tucked under a scarf, eyes scanning the street like she expected something to appear at any second.
There was a tension in her shoulders, a subtle alertness that was impossible to fake. Not Claire—someone new. But similar. Alert, aware, quietly calculating.
Alex smiled faintly. Interesting.
He watched her move into a narrow alley and pause, looking around.
The system chimed faintly:
SOCIAL ALERT
Unknown individual exhibiting heightened awareness.
Probability: medium. Suggest observation.
He considered approaching but decided against it. Instead, he focused on the immediate—his supplies, the car, the route back to Hawkins. Some threads needed to wait.
Back on the highway, the world felt too big. The city stretched around him in patterns Hawkins couldn't offer: industrial zones, long stretches of empty lots, power stations humming faintly. He could feel the pulse of the infrastructure, small anomalies vibrating in the hum of the machines. Nothing deadly yet—but it was there, just waiting for someone to notice.
SYSTEM ALERT
Environmental anomaly detected. Minor probability of early interference from unknown source. Observation recommended.
Alex exhaled, letting the tension drain slowly from his shoulders. The highway lights blurred through the rain-streaked windshield. He flicked the headlights to high beam for a second, noticing how reflections made the mist curl like smoke above the asphalt.
The world is already weird.
He arrived back in Hawkins before sunset, parking in front of the familiar storefront. The rain had started again, mist rising from puddles. He locked the car and stepped inside, unpacking the parts carefully, arranging them on the workbench like a small, neat army ready for deployment.
The system ticked softly in his head:
SKILL EXP GAINED: Observation + Technical Proficiency
Business Insight: minor update. Market expansion potential detected.
Alex chuckled under his breath. "Who knew shopping could be dangerous?"
He set up a small soldering station and started tinkering immediately, testing circuits, noting how small signals interacted with ambient electricity in the room. It wasn't just practice; it was preparation. If Hawkins was going to fall to something beyond comprehension in the coming years, he needed the tools, the skills, and the knowledge to respond.
And, perhaps more importantly, he needed to be ready for people like her—alert, aware, unpredictable.
By the time the lights in the shop dimmed to evening, Alex had mapped every component of the radio kit, repaired one minor anomaly, and tested signal reception in multiple configurations. The shop smelled faintly of solder and ozone.
He stood back, stretching, and allowed himself a small, dry laugh. "All the fun of traveling without the boring parts," he muttered.
Outside, the town settled into its quiet rhythm again, unaware of the young man who was quietly building tools, making connections, and noting patterns for a storm they didn't yet know was coming.
Alex walked to the window and looked down the street, noticing a figure moving too deliberately across the wet sidewalk—another person aware of more than they should be. He didn't flinch. Not yet.
The storm would come. That was inevitable.
But for now, he had time. And he had tools. And, somewhere in the rain-damp air of Indianapolis, the world had given him a hint: the patterns of the future were visible, if you knew how to look.
And Alex Harper had learned how to look.