2 Chapter 1: When the Sky Falls...

The night air was heavy, filled with the usual busy hustle and bustle of a New York City NIght. Grim trudged along the sidewalk, his movements as weary as his tattered clothes.

His long hair, unkempt and dirty, partially obscured his view, but he didn't bother to push it away.

In his hands, he held a wallet, its leather worn, edges frayed. Inside, a few crumpled one-dollar bills and some loose pennies clung to the seams – the meagre spoils of his day's labour.

He contemplated a slice of pizza from Mario's, a small treat in his otherwise bleak existence.

*BOOM*

As he lifted his gaze, pondering this minor indulgence, an ear-splitting explosion shattered the night.

A skyscraper nearby erupted into a fiery inferno, its upper half crumbling, sending debris cascading down towards the streets.

Panic ensued.

People screamed and ran in every direction.

Yet, during this frenzy, Grim stood motionless, his eyes locked on the tumbling debris.

There was no fear in his gaze, only a sense of relief as if the falling concrete and twisted metal were the harbingers of the end he had longed for.

Just as death seemed inevitable, a figure blurred into his peripheral vision, cursing loudly.

"Hey, you idiot! Move!" A teen with short, curly blonde hair was sprinting towards him, her face etched with urgency.

Before he could process the situation, he was tackled forcefully through the glass of a nearby building's first floor.

The world around him turned into a maelstrom of noise and pain, and then, abruptly, everything faded to black.

.....

(An unknown amount of time later...)

A dull throbbing in his head pulled Grim back to consciousness. His eyes fluttered open, revealing a world obscured by dust and debris.

He lay amidst the rubble, his body aching in protest as he tried to move. Then he noticed he wasn't alone.

On top of him lay a girl, her short, curly blonde hair covering her face.

She was unconscious but breathing steadily. Grim's gaze shifted to his own body; blood trickled from a wound on his head, staining his already dirty shirt.

The girl seemed to have fared slightly better, though her ankle was twisted at an unnatural angle.

She groaned, stirring into consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting Grim's. "Are you okay?" she asked, wincing in pain.

"I've been better," Grim replied dryly, trying to sit up. "You didn't have to tackle me, you know. I had it under control."

The woman scoffed, attempting to push herself up. "Under control? You were standing there like a deer in headlights. What's wrong with you?"

Grim shrugged, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I've had a long day. Getting crushed by a building seemed like a fitting end."

She looked at him, puzzled and slightly horrified. "You're not normal, are you?"

Grim helped her off him, his movements careful yet detached. "Normal's overrated. But, thanks for the save, I suppose."

As they both sat amidst the wreckage, Grim's mind, usually clouded with thoughts of death, was now oddly focused on the stranger before him.

Who was she, and why did she care? In a life filled with solitude, this unexpected encounter left Grim with more questions than answers.

Before Grim could voice his curiosity about her impromptu rescue, the woman—Valerie—suddenly sat up with a grunt. She tapped her wrist, and an invisible watch materialized into view.

Her brow furrowed in concentration as she spoke to the device, which responded with a series of beeps and a mechanical voice.

"Oxygen levels at 60% and dropping. Advised to find open air. Scanning for injuries," the device intoned.

Grim watched, fascinated as the watch emitted a soft, scanning light, sweeping over Valerie and then him.

"Subject: Valerie Richards. Minor injuries detected. Elevated adrenaline levels. Administering pain management." Valerie's features relaxed slightly as the watch dispensed two pills, which she swallowed hastily.

Turning its focus to Grim, the watch continued, "Subject: Unknown. Superficial head wound detected. Administering antiseptic and coagulant."

Valerie reached out, her touch surprisingly gentle, and applied a gel that oozed from her watch onto Grim's forehead. He flinched slightly, more out of surprise than pain.

Ignoring Grim's puzzled look, Valerie cursed under her breath. "Of all the days to leave my toolkit at the lab," she muttered.

As she fiddled with her watch, her gaze flickered to her swollen ankle. She grimaced, the pills beginning to work as her foot started cracking, bones realigning with an unsettling sound. Despite the evident discomfort, relief washed over her face.

"My watch has already sent a distress signal," Valerie explained, her voice steady despite the situation. "The others should be here soon."

Grim simply nodded, his mind trying to piece together the situation. Before he could ask anything more, Valerie, using the wall for support, began to limp away. "I'm going to find an exit. You coming or not, Eeyore?"

He let out a long sigh, looking around the debris-strewn room.

The nickname didn't bother him; it was far from the worst he'd been called.

With a resigned shrug, he followed her, his curiosity piqued by this woman who seemed as out of place in this disaster as he felt in life.

As they made their way through the wreckage, Grim couldn't help but feel a sense of irony.

Here he was, following someone else for the first time in what felt like forever, in the aftermath of what should have been his final moment.

Life, it seemed, still had a few surprises left for him.