Jenny had sounded so young. That wasn't the voice of the teenager he'd left on the Carrier-- full of teenage sulk and sarcasm. That was the little girl he'd left behind.
Was she really younger? Had something de-aged her, or was she from a different time period?
But that filtered through his head without slowing him down as he crossed The City by the streets and rooftops, moving like a parkour runner at super-human speeds until he had to slow down to scout the coast near the island.
He'd thrown on the mask-- Lucas Trent, currently a box-slinging yokel, couldn't move like he had to move. And he couldn't blow his 'secret identity.'
He would have, though, in a heartbeat, for Jenny. It was just luck that had put his apartment in the path of his mad dash across the city. He hadn't actually ever planned on returning to That Fucking Island for some time.
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Was she really younger? Had something de-aged her, or was she from a different time period?
But that filtered through his head without slowing him down as he crossed The City by the streets and rooftops, moving like a parkour runner at super-human speeds until he had to slow down to scout the coast near the island.
He'd thrown on the mask-- Lucas Trent, currently a box-slinging yokel, couldn't move like he had to move. And he couldn't blow his 'secret identity.'
He would have, though, in a heartbeat, for Jenny. It was just luck that had put his apartment in the path of his mad dash across the city. He hadn't actually ever planned on returning to That Fucking Island for some time.