As they pushed through the crowd, weaving between shoulders and elbows, a sudden burst of sound cut through the air — a microphone popping to life, followed by a confident voice amplified just enough to rise above the street noise.
"Alright, Times Square! We're Midtown Pulse! Let's make some noise!"
The crowd reacted instantly, a wave of cheers rolling forward like a pulse of its own. Marie's eyes lit up, her smile widening as the first chords rang out from a portable amp.
"Oh wow," she breathed, tightening her grip on Adam's hand.
Adam laughed as they kept moving, feeling the bass vibrate through the pavement. "Yeah, this is wild."
When they finally managed to cross the human ocean of people crowding, they saw the small improvised stage — just a couple of speaker stands and LED strips taped to the ground — where four performers stood ready: a guitarist, a drummer with a compact pad setup, a bassist, and a lead singer dressed in a bright jacket that caught every bit of neon around them.
The guitarist launched into a sharp, upbeat riff. The drummer followed with a rapid rhythm that made the whole crowd bounce. The singer leaned forward, grinning as he scanned the faces in front of him.
"Let's wake this block up!"
The music hit harder, louder, brighter — and the crowd surged with it.
Marie laughed, surprised by the sudden energy. "This is awesome!"
Adam leaned closer, his smile turning mischievous. "You've seen nothing yet."
She blinked, already sensing trouble. "Adam, don't you da—"
Too late.
He tightened his grip on her hand and slipped through the last row of people. The crowd had formed a perfect circle — a wide, open space pulsing with music, everyone watching, waiting for the next move.
Adam didn't hesitate. He stepped right into the empty center, pulling Marie with him, and the crowd reacted instantly — a ripple of cheers, whistles, phones lifting to record.
Marie froze for half a second, eyes wide. "Adam— what are you—"
But he was already moving, catching the beat effortlessly, his body falling into rhythm like he'd been born for this. And because he still held her hand, Marie was pulled into the motion, stumbling at first, then laughing despite herself as the circle closed in with excitement.
The singer pointed at them from the stage, grinning. "Alright! That's the energy we like!"
People around them cheered, and the circle shifted, filling itself as more dancers stepped forward. A couple jumped in beside them, then another pair, then a whole cluster of strangers letting the music take over. The empty space became a whirl of bodies, colors, and movement, all pulsing to the same beat.
The songs blurred together.
One track melted into the next, then another, then another. Ten, maybe fifteen beats later, they were still dancing, warm and laughing, carried by a momentum that felt like it could go on forever.
As the current song finally wound down, the singer — sweating and still buzzing with energy — pointed straight at Adam and Marie.
"That one goes out to the couple who jumped in first!"
Adam and Marie exchanged a quick look, half‑surprised, half‑excited, wondering what was coming next.
The singer glanced back at his drummer, nodded, then turned to the crowd with a grin.
"Alright, last one of the night! And… music!"
The drummer lifted his sticks, counted in, and the guitarist hit a bright, punchy riff — the kind you recognize before you even realize you know it. A ripple went through the crowd, a collective gasp turning into cheers as people caught on.
Marie's eyes widened. Adam's grin stretched instantly.
Of course. Shut Up and Dance.
The square erupted as the beat kicked in, fast and joyful, pulling everyone — absolutely everyone — back into motion.
Marie and Adam locked eyes, hands still linked, and moved together without thinking, letting the last burst of music carry them.
The final notes hit, sharp and bright, and the sound cut out.
They stopped at the same time, still close, still smiling.
And then they kissed, the crowd still roaring around them.
"Thanks, New York! We had a blast! Don't forget to follow us on Instagram — we're The Midtown Pulse!"
The crowd cheered one last time before slowly beginning to disperse.
Marie and Adam, finally pulling apart, looked at each other and smiled.
"You've got some moves for a mad scientist," Adam said.
"You're not bad yourself, Frankenstein. Not so rusty," Marie shot back with a laugh.
Adam laughed at that — right until he felt a sharp pinch at his waist. He jerked slightly, eyes widening as he saw Marie's fingers still on him.
"And you'd better warn me before doing something like that next time," she said, giving him a pointed look that promised hell.
"Sorry, I promise next time I'll pull you in faster so you don't have time to panic," he said, snickering.
Marie shot him an accusing look, and when she saw he was still grinning like an idiot, she sighed.
"I never know what to expect from you," she muttered, letting it go.
Adam kept that same infuriating smile. "You had fun, didn't you?"
Marie's expression softened into a real smile. "Yes. It was incredible. We got lucky catching them tonight."
"See? You had fun — that's all that matters," he said.
They drifted away from Times Square, their hands naturally finding each other again as they walked without any real destination. After all that dancing, neither of them felt like planning anything. They just let the city pull them along as the sun began to set in the distance.
After a while, as they wandered through the quieter streets, Marie's phone buzzed in her pocket. She ignored it at first.
It buzzed again — longer this time.
She finally pulled it out, her eyebrows drawing together in mild confusion as she looked at the screen.
"…It's the lab."
She checked the time. 8 p.m.
Her frown tightened.
Why would they call me this late…?
Adam noticed her hesitation and tilted his head. "You should probably answer. If they're calling at this hour, it must be important."
Hearing him, Marie sighed and finally picked up.
"Hi, Melody. Why are you calling me now? I should've told you I'd be busy at this time."
"Marie, sorry to bother you, but we've got an emergency at the lab," Melody said quickly, her voice tighter than usual. "We're pulling in everyone we can. You need to come back right away."
Marie blinked. "Right now? What happened?"
"I'll explain when you get here," Melody replied, a hint of strain slipping through. "You'll be paid double for the hours tonight, and if we manage to resolve this properly, there'll be a bonus as well."
Marie felt a surge of frustration, glanced at Adam, saw his encouraging look, then exhaled slowly. "Okay… I'll head there right away. Do I need to bring anything?"
"No, just get here as fast as you can. Sorry again, Marie. See you in a bit."
The call ended abruptly.
Marie stared at her screen for a second, the frustration returning sharper this time. Her grip tightened around her phone—until she suddenly felt warmth around her shoulders.
Adam had stepped in behind her, wrapping his arms gently around her waist.
"Hey," he murmured, resting his chin lightly on her shoulder. "Don't worry. It's fine. We'll just call this the… unexpected part of our date. I'm coming with you. And if they need help, I'm right here."
Marie closed her eyes for a moment, breathed in, then nodded. "Hmm."
She turned around, pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, and threw both fists up. "Let's do it!"
"That's the cute scientist I know!" Adam grinned.
They shared a smile before checking the map and spotting the nearest metro station, quickly planning the fastest route to the lab.
"Mmm… If we walk, we'll miss the next train. And the next one only comes twenty minutes after it…" Marie frowned at her phone.
Adam nudged her gently, a mischievous smile forming. He took a step back, puffed out his chest like a conductor announcing a departure.
"Well then… hop on. The Adam Express has just arrived at the station."
Before Marie could react, he spun around, dropped to one knee, and placed his hands behind his back like a perfectly obedient human seat.
"Dear passenger," he continued in an overly formal voice, "please proceed to your seat. The train will be departing shortly."
Marie burst out laughing, hopped onto his back, wrapped her arms around his neck and declared, "I'm ready, Mister Train!"
Adam tightened his grip under her legs, stood up in one smooth motion, and couldn't help thinking, Yep… definitely the right outfit for tonight.
"And… departure!" he announced, starting to run and gradually picking up speed. "Dear passenger, estimated arrival at the station in ten minutes."
He kept the act for a few seconds, then slowed down, chuckling. "Actually—uh—could you take out your phone? I don't remember the way. I'm gonna need you to guide me."
Marie burst out laughing again, pulled out her phone, and tapped the screen with practiced precision. "Alright, Mister Train. Straight ahead for two blocks, then left. Try not to crash into any pedestrians."
"Aye aye, captain," Adam puffed, adjusting her weight on his back as he resumed a determined trot.
They made it to the station just as the metro doors were about to close. Adam lunged forward with a heroic burst of speed, sliding inside with Marie still clinging to him.
The doors beeped and shut behind them.
"Haaaaaa—" Adam exhaled dramatically as he crouched down, letting Marie slide off his back. He collapsed onto the nearest seat like a soldier returning from war. "I swear… I deserve a medal. Or at least a juice box."
Marie shook her head, amused, and pulled a small handkerchief from her pocket. Without a word, she leaned in and gently wiped the sweat along his forehead, then down the side of his neck.
Adam blinked, surprised by the tenderness, then smiled — a soft, grateful smile that made his shoulders relax instantly. "Careful," he murmured, "if you keep doing that, I might start thinking you actually like me."
Marie rolled her eyes, but her cheeks warmed. "Shut up."
He chuckled, finally catching his breath. After a moment, he turned toward her, curiosity sparking in his eyes.
"So," he said, nudging her knee with his, "what do you think could be so urgent at the lab? Did one of the rats finally move on from addition and start doing multiplication? Or maybe someone spilled coffee on the centrifuge again?"
Marie snorted. "Multiplication? If one of them starts solving equations, I'm quitting on the spot."
Adam grinned. "Fair. Though honestly, with your research, I wouldn't even be surprised."
She tried to smile back, but it faltered. Her gaze drifted to the window, watching the metro lights flicker across the glass as the train sped through the tunnel.
"…No idea," she murmured. "And that's what bothers me."
She paused, her fingers tightening slightly around her phone as she thought it through.
"I've never heard Melody sound that urgent. She's usually calm, even when things go wrong. If she's calling like this… something must've happened. I just hope it's nothing that'll throw our whole project off."
Adam shifted closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her gently against his side. The movement was warm, steadying.
"Hey," he said softly, "you don't know yet. Maybe it's something good. Maybe they made a breakthrough and they need everyone to confirm it. Not every emergency is a disaster."
Marie let out a small breath, not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh.
Adam tilted his head, catching her gaze. "And even if the sky does fall, there's always someone to hold it up. Labs don't collapse just because something weird happens. Well… except in Resident Evil, but that's a video game, so we're safe."
Marie let out a small laugh despite herself.
He smiled — that easy, confident smile that always made her shoulders loosen a little.
"And as long as I'm here," he added, nudging her gently, "even if there are zombies, I'll show them what happens when a nerd also happens to be an athlete."
Marie felt the tension in her chest ease, just a bit. She leaned into him, letting her head rest lightly against his shoulder as the metro rattled on through the tunnel.
"…Thanks," she whispered.
Adam squeezed her hand. "Always."
They stayed like that for the rest of the ride, quiet but close, each lost in their own thoughts about the call. When the train finally came to a stop, they stepped out and climbed the stairs to the street.
Outside, the noise of Manhattan faded quickly behind them. They walked for about ten minutes, the bright storefronts giving way to quieter industrial blocks on the edge of Long Island City — warehouses, offices, and the occasional biotech building still lit from the inside.
The air felt cooler here, calmer, almost too still for the hour. Hardly anyone was around. The few people they did pass were dressed in work clothes, moving with heavy steps and blank, exhausted expressions. One man walked by them without even noticing, dark circles under his eyes, premature lines carved into his face, the kind that only long shifts and constant stress could create.
It felt… oppressive.
While they walked, Adam took in the atmosphere — the empty sidewalks, the harsh white lights, the exhausted workers dragging their feet — and instinctively lowered his voice. He bent slightly toward Marie, as if the place itself demanded discretion.
"So… is it always like this where you work?" he whispered. "It looks like even dogs wouldn't dare bark around here. And the mosquitoes and flies… I swear they'd tiptoe instead of buzzing."
Marie barely held back a laugh at how cautious he suddenly looked. "You don't have to whisper, you know," she teased. Then, more quietly: "But… yeah. It never felt this oppressive before."
Realizing they were in America — and that whispering wasn't going to save him from anything — Adam straightened up and switched back to his usual booming voice. "Right. Honestly, it looks like the start of a bad horror movie."
Marie snorted. "Don't jinx it."
"But anyway," he continued, "when are we there?"
"We'll reach the lab in two minutes. It's just around the corner."
They turned the corner — and there it was. A massive industrial complex, all steel and glass, looming over the empty street. A huge illuminated sign stretched across the front:
EVOTECH Research Facility
The building stood silent, lights glowing behind tinted windows like a sleeping giant.
They made their way toward the entrance, where a tall security fence blocked access. A guard stood in front of it, arms crossed, posture alert.
Marie quickened her pace. "Hi, Oliver. Do you know what's going on inside?"
Oliver straightened when he recognized her.
"Evening, Marie. You're one of the first to arrive — the others are still on their way. As for Melody and her team, we've been checking in with them every fifteen minutes since the emergency alert. But their last update was about thirty minutes ago. Since then… nothing." He paused, his expression tightening. "Unfortunately, we were given strict orders to secure the perimeter and wait for further instructions. So we can't go inside to see what's happening."
He paused, his eyes shifting to Adam. "Is he new? You know the rules — employees only. And with a situation like this, I can't let anyone else in."
Marie hesitated. "Actually, he's—"
Adam stepped forward before she could finish, confidence radiating off him. He extended his hand for a firm handshake.
"Oliver, right? Pleasure to meet you. Miss Schweizer asked me to escort Marie and ensure she arrived safely. Until she gives further instructions, I can't let my charge enter the facility without me."
Oliver shook his hand, feeling the firm grip. His gaze swept Adam from head to toe — straight posture, broad shoulders, steady expression. He definitely looked like someone who could handle himself.
Oliver exhaled slowly, then turned back to Marie. "Alright… I trust your judgment. And honestly, with the way things feel tonight, having someone strong with you might not be a bad idea."
Marie's expression brightened. She badged in, stepped past him, and while waiting for the fence to unlock, she added, "Thanks, Oliver. Stay alert, okay? I'll contact you if we find anything strange."
Adam followed her through with a perfectly neutral expression, gave Oliver a small nod, and joined Marie as the gate slid open.
They stepped into the courtyard. As the gate closed behind them with a metallic thud, the silence settled in immediately. Only the distant hum of the facility's ventilation systems broke the stillness.
"Nice idea pretending to be my bodyguard," Marie murmured, "but how did you know my boss's surname?"
"I saw it on your screen earlier, when you were fidgeting with your phone."
Inside the building, the front door opened with a soft hiss. The lobby was dim, lit only by a few ceiling panels that flickered weakly. The reception desk stood empty.
Adam scanned the room, shoulders tense. "Isn't there supposed to be someone at the entrance?"
Marie shook her head. "No, it's already past nine. Reception closes at eight. Researchers stay later because we get caught up in our work, but technically we're free to leave earlier. Our team's just… very motivated by the current project, so we tend to stay much longer."
Adam nodded slowly, but his eyes kept moving, tracking every shadow. "Still feels a little too empty."
They walked deeper into the corridor. Their footsteps echoed softly, the sound swallowed by the long hallway stretching ahead of them. A row of lights flickered above—once, twice—before stabilizing again.
Marie frowned. "That's odd. The power shouldn't be fluctuating like that."
A faint metallic noise echoed further down the hall. Something small. Quick. Like a tap against a vent.
Adam stopped. "Did you hear that?"
Marie froze beside him, her breath catching. "Yeah… that wasn't normal."
The lights flickered again—longer this time—casting the corridor into a stuttering sequence of shadows and pale flashes.
Adam took a slow step forward, voice low. "Stay close."
He moved in front of her, advancing with careful, deliberate steps, scanning every shadow and every corner where something could be hiding. He didn't know what he was expecting, but he could feel it—something was there. Watching. Waiting.
Suddenly, a sharper noise tore through the silence, like a nail dragging violently across metal.
Marie gasped, but Adam reacted instantly. He reached back, covering her mouth gently but firmly to stop the scream rising in her throat. He brought a finger to his lips, signaling her to stay quiet.
He kept scanning the hallway, muscles tense.
Then he saw it.
A blurry shadow darted across the corridor as the lights flickered—fast, too fast—moving from one wall to the other in a single, fluid motion. It was coming toward them.
Then, suddenly—nothing. Empty space. Silence.
Adam's entire body went rigid. He turned his head sharply, scanning left, right, up—everywhere—his movements quick and precise.
A sudden rush of air swept above them.
Adam snapped his gaze upward.
Something was dropping from the ceiling.
Acting on pure instinct, he shoved Marie out of the way and crossed both arms in front of himself just as the creature struck.
"Hiss—" Adam gasped.
A sharp impact tore through both his forearms, forcing him back a step. Warm blood seeped through the torn sleeves as he steadied himself, breath shaking. His arms trembled from the shock, but he forced his focus back on the threat.
On the floor, a dark‑green creature—barely thirty centimeters tall—stood perfectly still.
It looked like a mantis, but wrong in every possible way. Its body was longer, thinner, built with an unsettling elegance. The exoskeleton wasn't the fragile shell of an insect but something denser, almost metallic, catching the dim hallway light like polished armor. Its forelegs were enormous compared to its size—half its body length—shaped into curved blades lined with tiny, serrated teeth.
Predatory. Precise. Designed to cut.
Its head tilted slowly, the triangular shape rigid and cold. Two black, unblinking eyes fixed on Adam with a focus that felt almost intelligent—like a killer assessing its next move.
The creature didn't move. It simply watched, antennae twitching once, tasting the air.
Marie scrambled to her feet and rushed behind Adam.
Her breath hitched when she saw his arms. "Adam… are you okay? You're bleeding, you need to be treated—"
Adam didn't answer. He shifted his stance, keeping himself between her and the creature, jaw tight, blood dripping from his arms as the mantis lowered its body—ready to strike again.
"It's just a scratch," he muttered. "No time for that. Our priority is this… thing."