As those words reverberated behind him, Klaus found himself immobilized, gripped by a sense of shock and uncertainty.

"You're him, aren't you? You're NightShade."

The voice, utterly unfamiliar, left Klaus in a state of bewilderment. How could it be otherwise? He was far from home, after all.

At this moment, Klaus was adrift, unsure of his next move. He had a vague inkling of who might be speaking.

Busted, he thought.

Escape was a feasible option, but Klaus recognized the pitfalls. Employing his unfamiliar ability in front of a police officer would only invite unwelcome attention, potentially escalating the situation into a full-blown issue.

For Klaus, staying under the radar was paramount, whether as NightShade or in his everyday life. There was only one course of action he deemed suitable: compliance.

Dropping the spray can and raising his hands in plain sight, Klaus heard the approach of multiple sets of footsteps. The situation had escalated beyond his expectations.

It seemed escape was a near-impossible task without the use of his abilities. His mind raced, concocting plans as he feigned surrender. However, the execution had to be impeccable.

As he slowly lowered himself to the ground, maintaining the illusion of compliance, he seized a fleeting opportunity to turn and catch the officer off guard. Yet, this officer was no ordinary law enforcer.

In his attempt to subdue the officer, Klaus was met with an unexpected countermove. In a swift and precise motion, his left arm was deftly maneuvered over his shoulder while his right was firmly controlled. Before he could react, he found himself tackled to the ground, immobilized in a manner that defied his resistance.

He had been utterly overpowered.

These maneuvers were far from ordinary; it was as though this individual had dedicated a lifetime to mastering them. Stunned by the rapid turn of events, Klaus lay helpless, his thoughts a mix of hope and apprehension. He could only pray that this person's intentions were not hostile.

In the face of such overwhelming force, Klaus's once-confident demeanor had been entirely eclipsed.

At this juncture, two distinct possibilities lay before him. Either he would be apprehended and transported to an investigative facility, where he would undergo unmasking and rigorous interrogation by higher authorities, attempting to glean the secrets behind his uncanny escapades. Or, he would risk local headlines of a deluded individual claiming to have witnessed a being moving at the speed of thought.

Klaus was well aware of the stakes he was gambling with by utilizing his extraordinary abilities. However, the ramifications of being apprehended reached beyond his personal fate; his mother's well-being was also in jeopardy. He felt cornered, compelled to proceed down the perilous path he had embarked upon.

Just as he was steeling himself to make a desperate move, even in the face of his immobilization and the inevitable strain it would exert on his captor's arms, a new voice resonated in the scene, injecting an unexpected note of reassurance.

"Ease up, man. I think he's got it."

In that instant, Klaus's intuition solidified. These were not law enforcement officers. While his face was still pressed against the ground, he couldn't visually identify the interlopers.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the individual restraining him muttered, loosening his hold and releasing Klaus from his restrictive grip.

Slowly, Klaus lifted his head as he gazed at the strangers who had intervened. He quickly recognized that these were fellow graffiti artists, evident by the masks adorning their mouths, much like his own. However, what set them apart was the emblematic "W" logo emblazoned on their hoodies.

As he shifted his gaze, he took note of three individuals—his initial sense of vulnerability now giving way to a semblance of relief. The immediate pressure to confront his plight head-on had dissipated, although he still harbored a sense of unease, particularly due to the dismissive demeanor of the person who had so expertly restrained him.

"I'm so sorry, man. I instinctively reacted when you lunged at me before my mind had a chance to register," the individual closest to him admitted, conveying a level of sincerity that left Klaus in awe.

"How could someone move with such grace and precision purely on instinct?" he mused to himself as one of the two figures at the back of the group approached with concern etched on her features.

"Hey, really sorry about that. Is your arm okay?" her voice, distinctly feminine, held a compassionate undertone as she inquired.

The realization dawned on Klaus that they were simply a collective of street artists, not adversaries.

"I'm fine," he responded, offering a nonchalant shrug that gently pushed her hand away from his shoulder blade.

Unyielding in her concern, the girl persisted, inspecting the affected area. In surrender, Klaus allowed her to examine the discomfort he was experiencing. After a brief interval, they initiated introductions.

"I'm Karma. This is Ghost, and the lady is Aura," the individual who had apprehended Klaus earlier spoke up, breaking the silence and fostering a sense of camaraderie among them.

CONVERSATION

Karma: Again, really sorry we got off on the wrong foot.

Aura: You've got to relax once in a while, K. He's actually hurt.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Klaus: I said I'm fine.

Ghost: She's just tryna help, dude. Relax.

Karma: Anyway, we just revealed who we are. So tell me... are you really NightShade?

Klaus: I don't remember ever claiming that name.

Karma: But it's what you're addressed as by the public, correct?

Klaus: *sighs* I guess.

Karma: Hmm, so I guess my intuition was correct.

Aura: Wow. Who knew you'd be right?

Klaus: How did you know I was here?

Karma: It's actually a funny story...

Ghost: He claimed that something informed him that you, specifically, were here. Like it was calling him to you.

Karma: I guess you can call it some sort of a hunch.

Klaus: But how were you sure it was me specifically?

Karma: I can't really explain it in detail. But it was kinda like something was leading me directly to you. Even though we haven't met before.

Karma said it with such a stoic expression that made it sound very convincing.

Ghost: I hope you realize you sound like a crazy person.

Karma: Oh. I spaced out there a bit, haha.

Klaus was feeling bewildered at this point. He had been unexpectedly confronted by a group of people who acted as if their meeting was somehow predestined.

Everything seemed puzzling.

"So, what's your plan now that you've found me?" Klaus inquired, his curiosity piqued.

Given that they hadn't provided much information about themselves, he was unsure about their intentions. But Karma's statements had already intrigued him.

"To be honest, I'm not entirely certain. I was following what appeared to be orders, so I'm currently at a loss as to what comes next," Karma admitted.

At this point, Klaus was beginning to lose interest in continuing his artwork. He simply wanted to return home.

"Well, if that's the case, I'll be heading out," he declared, indicating his intention to leave.

After a brief moment of contemplative silence, Karma came up with an idea.

CONVERSATION

Karma: Wait. Given the way things unfolded, maybe it's a sign for us to meet and for you to consider joining us.

Ghost: Whoa, join us?

Klaus: And why should I do that?

Karma: I'm not big on prophecies or destiny, but I can't ignore the urge to get to know you.

Klaus: Well, I'm flattered, but I'm not doing this for clout. I'm not like you guys.

After this statement, they all turned to Klaus, the silence hanging in the air for a few seconds.

Aura: We never claimed we do this for clout. You might not believe it, but I personally do this to clear my mind. I've faced challenges in my life, and this is the most effective way for me to release some stress.

Karma: That's why we're a team. We're not like other artists, and something tells me you're not too.

Klaus was left without words. After learning that they shared the same motivations for their street art, he found himself at a loss for a response.

Karma: How about this, if we help you finish your current work and you like the cooperation between us, then you'd consider it?

Klaus took a few seconds of thought before responding.

Klaus: *sighs* I guess.

Karma and Aura seemed pleased with his response, while Ghost appeared less enthusiastic. Nevertheless, with Karma's approval, Ghost fell in line.

Working alongside them on the mural Klaus had initiated, he found solace in their company. The collaborative effort cleared his mind more effectively than working alone.

Upon completion, the result exceeded his expectations. He marveled at how closely their assistance aligned with his vision.

"So, what's your answer?" Karma inquired.

"Fine," Klaus conceded.

His response brought smiles all around, even from Ghost, swayed during their collaborative endeavor. With a grin, Karma announced, "Congratulations, you're officially part of Wallpaper."

Klaus found the name creatively fitting, so he raised no objections. He questioned whether he needed to don their logo on his hoodie, but Karma assured him it wasn't necessary.

As they sprayed both their logo and his onto the artwork, cementing the collaboration, they reclined on the rooftop together, engaging in conversation.

Despite Klaus's aversion to attention, he found a certain comfort when conversing with them, and the nagging ache in his head seemed to have abated.

Soon after, they exchanged contact information, ensuring a means of staying in touch for potential future meet-ups.

Subsequently, they bid each other farewell, dispersing to their respective homes. However, Klaus remained behind.

Lost in contemplation, he pondered, "Why did conversing with them feel so different?" "Why was Karma directed to me?" Numerous questions swirled in his mind, yet, as usual, he opted against pursuing them, deeming it too burdensome.

As he snapped back to reality, a voice called out to him from below.

"Hey, you up there!"

This time, he was certain it was the police. He realized he had been lost in thought for so long that the sun was already beginning to rise.

He was in trouble.

Swiftly getting to his feet, the officer called for backup. Panic surged within him as he sought a secluded spot where he could activate his ability without being observed. He dashed past a gathering crowd, with the officer in pursuit, and scanned his surroundings for a suitable location.

However, no such spot presented itself. The officer's footsteps and the wail of sirens closed in on him. He sprinted desperately, almost reaching the city's edge. People stared as he darted past, his focus on outpacing his pursuer and deploying his ability before sunrise.

Finally, luck seemed to favor him. An empty alleyway materialized ahead. He dashed into it just as the sun's first rays broke over the horizon.

Fortunately, he managed to reach a suitable location just in time – his school.

Although the school was situated close to the city, he understood that he couldn't freely roam the area yet, given the faint echoes of sirens that still reached his ears.

He slipped into the school premises, driven by desperation to conceal himself. However, he realized he couldn't loiter there for long without risking capture, especially with the impending school day.

Then an idea struck him – the school's lost and found section.

Though it was far from an ideal solution, he recognized the necessity of changing out of his NightShade attire to avoid suspicion. He hastily selected a set of clothes from the lost and found bin, swallowing his pride as he slipped them on. With his NightShade outfit stashed inside his locker, he emerged in his new disguise.

Though the clothes were ill-fitting and uncomfortable, he knew he had no choice. The alternative was walking back home as NightShade, with the authorities still potentially in pursuit.

Deciding against using his skateboard, which could draw more attention, he embarked on the journey home, hoping his makeshift disguise and the morning's chaos would suffice to obscure his identity.

Upon arriving home, he immediately discarded the borrowed clothes and indulged in a lengthy, refreshing shower.

This time, he had the foresight to leave a note for his mom by her door, informing her of his absence to prevent unnecessary worry and her having to sleep on the couch.

With school about to commence shortly, he managed to catch a brief hour of sleep before being roused by Shade.

Once at school, he gathered the borrowed clothes into a bag and efficiently returned them to the lost and found, ensuring no trace of his earlier disguise remained.

Double-checking that his NightShade attire was secure in his locker, he breathed a sigh of relief.

The school day seemed interminable, each passing second feeling like a small eternity. He impatiently awaited the end of his class, eager to return the clothes home and alleviate his exhaustion from the previous night's encounter with law enforcement.

Finally, the bell signaling the end of the class rang.

Rising from his seat with urgency, he hastened to his locker to retrieve the graffiti attire, aiming to do so discreetly. Yet, to his astonishment, the clothes were nowhere to be found. Frozen in disbelief, his mind raced to process the situation.

"How?" he questioned aloud, his voice betraying his incredulity.

He wrestled with the reality before him, hoping against hope that he had simply misremembered and misplaced the clothes in his fatigued state, perhaps inadvertently leaving them in the lost and found.

As he prepared to shut his locker and validate his theory, his eyes caught something unexpected—a note.

"I know your secret. Meet me in the chemistry lab after school."