"Could be," I say, trying to keep my tone light, but it's hard not to feel the weight of it, knowing the Kingdom might be planning something even bigger. "The weirdest thing is how quiet they've been since the heist. Almost too quiet, you know?"

Mom sighs, reaching for her grape juice. "It's like they're laying low, getting ready for something else. And I'm not sure I like what that 'something' might be."

"It's the Kingdom, so anything's on the table," I say, shrugging. "But yeah, the heroes didn't want word getting out. You know, keeping things under wraps, avoid copycats and all that. But it's hard to keep stuff quiet these days. And, anyway, it's kinda freaky, thinking about what they might do with those frogs."

Pop-Pop leans back, giving me a thoughtful look. "You mentioned this Kingdom group before, haven't you? They're the ones with that... what do you call her? The animal lady?"

Mom nods, setting down her cup of grape juice. "Mrs. Xenograft, right? You told me about her. You ran into her at the zoo with Tasha, didn't you?"

I freeze for a split second, my fork hovering halfway to my mouth. I had told Mom about the trip, and the weird, borderline rant Mrs. Xenograft gave about dolphins and other "evil animals." It was not exactly a comforting conversation. Still, I keep my cool, setting my fork down before answering.

"Yeah, that's her. And... well, you guys remember that animal attack on the house, right? With the weird hybrids going after us?" I glance at Dad, who visibly shudders, shaking his head like he's trying to erase the memory.

"Don't remind me," he mutters, reaching for the potato kugel. "That deer-thing with... And those teeth?" He visibly shivers, muttering under his breath, thinking about flowers. "No, I don't want to think about that again very much."

I nod, trying to suppress a grin at his reaction. "Yeah, that was her doing. She can mix animals together, splice them up however she wants. So, if anyone's got a reason to make a grab for poison dart frogs... I mean, there's a solid chance they're planning for some, uh, creative recombination."

Mom raises her eyebrows, clearly not thrilled by the idea. "Frogs combined with who knows what else, roaming around the city? Wonderful."

Pop-Pop lets out a low whistle, leaning back in his chair. "So, we're talking potential hybrid monsters with a poison upgrade? G-d, these villains just keep getting more imaginative. But if they wanted poison frogs, why not just head down to the Amazon? Easier to get 'em from the zoo, I guess?"

"Yeah, probably fewer logistics involved. Plus, no dealing with customs," I say, chuckling. "But, I don't know. It's just... unsettling. Like, they went through all this trouble just for frogs? And since then, they've been completely quiet. It's like they're up to something big, but nobody knows what."

Mom and Dad exchange a look, that shared worried glance that always makes me feel like I'm fifteen again, like I'm somehow a kid getting scolded for staying out too late.

Dad clears his throat. "Well, I guess if they're keeping quiet, it's for a reason. But doesn't it worry you a little, Sam? I mean, you're out there, you're... involved in all this. And these people, they're not playing around."

Pop-Pop scoffs, waving his fork dismissively. "Ben, she's tougher than you give her credit for. She's got shark powers, for G-d's sake. She could probably bite their arms off if they get too close." He turns to me, raising an eyebrow. "And you wouldn't let them get too close, right, Sammy?"

I nod, smiling despite myself. "Don't worry, Pop-Pop. I keep my distance when it counts."

Schlemiel has managed to climb onto the table now, pawing gently at a small piece of challah near the edge. Pop-Pop doesn't even notice; he just lets him go for it. He doesn't chew on the bread, he just sort of starts licking it.

"So," Mom says, breaking the momentary silence, "you're telling me these villains somehow think poison dart frogs are a good idea. And the heroes, what, they're just letting it go?"

"Well," I say, trying to choose my words carefully. "They're... investigating, I think. But they haven't found much. And, honestly, I don't think they even know what the Kingdom's planning. We're two steps behind everyone. Always reacting."

Pop-Pop snorts, leaning back with a smirk. "Sounds about right. Villains these days, always with the elaborate plans. Used to be simpler back in the old days, when your parents were young. Rob a bank, steal some jewels, easy stuff. No crazy plans."

Mom laughs, shaking her head. "Oh, yes, because robbing banks was so straightforward."

"You laugh, but I bet a lot fewer people got hurt back then," Pop-Pop says, waving his fork around like he's making a point. "Nowadays, it's all biological weapons and weird animal splicing. Like something out of a Crichton novel. What's next, frogs that shoot lasers?"

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"Who's Crichton?" I ask, but they sort of talk over and around me. I find my arms folded over my chest.

Dad chuckles, but he still has that serious look in his eyes, glancing over at me. "Just... if they do something, these guys, they already destroyed our house once. Let's not make it round two, okay?"

I sigh. "Don't worry. I'm letting the adults handle them," I lie.

He nods in approval. "That's my girl. Just remember, villains are like bad deli meat--you deal with 'em once, but they keep coming back."

"That sounds like something I'd say!" Pop-Pop laughs.

----------------------------------------

The sidewalk is crowded with kids all streaming out of the Tacony Charter Academy gates, everyone heading their separate ways. Alex is flapping his arms like he's trying to fly off the pavement, and Jordan's laughing at him in their usual, dry, affectionate way. They're going back and forth about some new anime they started, and I'm only half-listening, mostly because the more they talk, the less sense it all makes.

"I'm telling you," Alex says, his voice raised enough that a couple of freshmen glance over, probably wondering if they should recognize him, "they could've stopped the whole coup if Hoshi's stardust cannon didn't conveniently lose all its energy right at that moment! Like, they had just enough to beat the Emperor, but nooo, it had to happen right then. Lazy writing."

Jordan makes this dramatic sigh, pushing up their glasses. "I don't get you, dude. The point is Hoshi's struggling with her powers. They're on the edge of collapsing under the weight of her own, like, cosmic existential despair. She's not a stardust machine. She's a person. And she's depressed!"

I smirk, glancing sideways at Jordan. "So, she's just a giant space laser, but make it... sad? Why do you guys even watch this stuff?"

Alex rolls his eyes, nudging me in the shoulder with his elbow. "It's more than that! It's about her journey, Sam. Imagine if you had powers but they came from, I don't know, like some weird celestial destiny you never asked for and--oh, oh, and then you're trying to fight off this massive organization that wants to capture and use you. Kind of like you!"

I snort, shoving his arm off. "Great, so I'm 'cosmic sad laser girl.' I'm flattered."

Jordan grins. "You should be. Hoshi's pretty iconic. Anyway, it's not just her; the whole cast is like these mythic heroes--only, like, super modernized and messy. They're all kinda disasters, which makes it better."

Alex pipes up, "Exactly! Like Ryoma, with his whole dark matter angst thing. But even if Hoshi's my favorite, that finale left me drained. I needed three whole glasses of--"

Jordan cuts him off. "If you say 'fizzy berry juice,' I'm walking away right now."

Alex just smirks. "I was gonna say grape-pom tea, actually, thank you very much."

The banter keeps going, little jabs and inside jokes flying around, and I'm actually getting into it, even if I have no idea who Hoshi or Ryoma are, or why anyone would drink grape-pom tea on purpose. I'm still not sold on this "existential crisis but with lasers" genre they're into, but it's kind of fun listening to them. And for a minute, I forget all the other stuff. No Kingdom, no Kingdom-related nightmares. Just us, being normal, weird teenagers.

Then we round the corner, and everything sort of slams back into reality.

Ahead, there's this crowd of kids, maybe a dozen or so, just... standing around, staring. And in the middle of them, there's a garbage can burning bright red, flames shooting up in this wild, furious color, way too bright, like someone dropped a road flare in there. The fire looks almost... wrong, like it's too vivid, too artificial. It's giving off this intense red glow that's stretching across the street, turning all the shadows on the ground into deep, flickering scarlet.

Jordan stops mid-sentence, mouth open like they're about to say something. But nothing comes out. They're just staring, their eyes fixed on the flames. Alex goes quiet too, his face scrunched up in that kind of confused, squinting way, like he's trying to figure out a riddle he didn't even know he was supposed to solve.

It's not that there's anything especially hypnotic about the fire. It's a fire, sure, but it's just... there. Sitting in the middle of a trash can right on the street, flames licking up in this intense, bright-red blaze, way too vivid for something so small. We're all standing around it like it's some kind of installation piece, something people are supposed to stop and look at, and I feel this weird discomfort rippling through the crowd. Like everyone's baffled by the sheer strangeness of it being there at all, right outside the school gates.

A couple of kids from Tacony High I vaguely recognize are standing off to the side, muttering to each other, probably wondering the same things we all are. Who did this? Why here? And why does it look so... wrong?

My fingers start tapping against my thigh. I don't even notice I'm doing it at first, but I feel this electric, jittery energy creeping through me, like my body's just realizing it's supposed to be on high alert. I tell myself it's nothing--just some dumb kids messing around, trying to look cool or edgy or whatever--but my chest tightens up anyway, and suddenly it feels like there's not enough air around. I can't even explain it, but there's this hot, clawing anxiety rising up inside, like I'm on the edge of... something. My heart's hammering, and I feel this sick twist in my stomach.

It's just a fire, I tell myself, and for a second, I almost believe it. But it doesn't feel right, not even close.

"Is it... supposed to be that color?" Alex finally says, his voice shaky, like he's not even sure if he should be asking. "I mean, that's not, like, normal, is it? It looks like it's... I dunno, too bright?"

Jordan shakes their head slowly, not looking away from the flames. "That's what road flares look like," they murmur, like they're talking more to themselves than anyone else. "I saw it in a movie once. Or, maybe... whatever. But it's just a garbage can, so... who set it off?"

The more they talk, the worse I feel. Every little observation, every stupid question, it all just feeds into this gnawing dread clawing its way up my throat. I don't know why I'm reacting this way, but it's like my body's on autopilot, revving up for a threat that my brain just can't see.

I start breathing faster, trying to shake it off. My eyes dart around, scanning the crowd, the street, the parked cars. Everything's too loud, too bright, too... close, and suddenly it's like I can feel every molecule of air around me pressing in, making it harder and harder to breathe.

I can't take it. I don't know what's happening, and I don't know why, but I can't stand here anymore. My chest is tight, my head's spinning, and there's this overwhelming need to just get away, to be anywhere but here.

"Hey, are you--" Alex starts, but I don't let him finish.

I turn on my heel and bolt, pushing through the crowd of kids around me.