Martha's "Prophecy"

Queens's first snow came without warning. The morning sunlight refracted through ice crystals into rainbow hues, falling across Martha's windowsill and wrapping her half-dead succulent in a layer of silver frost. The old woman sat in a rocking chair by the window, a wool blanket over her knees, knitting needles flying through her hands as yarn slipped between her fingers, gradually forming half a red sock—for Snowball, though the fat cat had never liked wearing anything.

Lin Mo crouched beside the radiator with a wrench in hand, trying to pull out the ball of yarn stuck inside. Snowball had chased the yarn the night before and tangled the entire skein into the radiator's gaps. It now looked like a gray cocoon, with only the tip of its tail sticking out, twitching occasionally to prove it was still alive. "Mrs. Martha, your cat is getting more and more troublesome." He smiled, his fingertips glowing with faint translucent light as he carefully used the Basic Phasing Ability to separate the yarn from the radiator's welded joints.

"Let it be." Martha did not look up as her knitting needle clicked through the yarn. "Staying in this lousy building all day, even a cat would get depressed if it didn't find some fun." She glanced out the window. Snowflakes spun down through the air, laying a thin white blanket over the street. "Look at this snow. It feels strange. We used to be wearing short sleeves around this time of year."

Lin Mo followed her gaze. Outside the coffee shop on the corner, Peter was standing on tiptoe as he swept snow, his red scarf fluttering in the wind like a little flag. The boy held a thermos cup and took a sip now and then, probably hot cocoa from Aunt May. "Climate change, maybe." Lin Mo pulled the last strand of yarn free from the radiator. Snowball shot out with a meow, shook the dust from its fur, and was immediately scooped into Martha's arms. "The weather's getting stranger and stranger these days."

"It isn't the weather that's strange." Martha suddenly set down her knitting needles. Her gaze passed through the window toward the distant sky, as if it could pierce the thick clouds and see somewhere farther away. Her voice lowered, rough with the weight of years. "The world is about to change."

Lin Mo froze, nearly dropping the yarn ball in his hand. He remembered the scenes from yesterday's news: Iron Man's armor formations conducting drills over Manhattan, their energy cannons lighting half the night sky blue; an explosion on the streets of Brooklyn, where witnesses claimed they had seen a huge green figure overturning cars before military helicopters chased it for three blocks and it vanished. Things that had once existed only in comic books were now daily headlines.

"You mean... the superheroes?" he asked tentatively, tossing the yarn ball into the trash. The wristband on his arm grew faintly hot. Its screen flashed, then quickly went dark, as if reminding him of something.

"Not just them." Martha held Snowball and gently stroked the soft fur along its back. "Iron Man flying all over the sky, the Green Giant fighting in the streets, and now there's someone who can walk through walls..." She gave Lin Mo a meaningful look. There was no surprise in her eyes, only calm understanding. "This world is like a leaking sieve. Things that used to be hidden are all coming out now."

Lin Mo's heart clenched. Martha really did know his secret. Ever since the fire, ever since he had helped old Mrs. Irene fight for eggs, the old woman had seemed to hold a transparent mirror that showed her every little thing he did. Yet she had never exposed him, only occasionally reminded him in her own way.

"I..." He opened his mouth, wanting to explain, but Martha cut him off.

"Don't be nervous. I'm not senile yet." The old woman picked up her knitting needles again, red yarn rolling across her lap. "That little trick of yours is nothing compared to the ones flying in the sky or smashing things on the ground. But remember this: small trouble isn't scary. What's scary is attracting something stronger." She tapped the window, making the frost on the glass shake loose in flakes. "It's like poking a hornet's nest. Poke it once, and a few hornets come out. Poke it again, and the whole nest will fight you to the death."

Cold sweat instantly seeped down Lin Mo's back. He knew what Martha meant. The hammer in New Mexico, the prince of Asgard, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s secret base... these were no longer small matters. They were a hornet's nest reaching into the universe. He remembered the files Peter had organized mentioning an agent named Clint Barton on Phil Coulson's team, whose arrows were accurate enough to hit a fly in midair, along with a woman called Black Widow, who was said to be able to take down an entire squad of special forces by herself. Those people had gathered in Pepper Town for far more than a hammer.

"How do you know all this?" Lin Mo could not help asking. He had always thought Martha was just an ordinary old woman, someone who at most knew the neighborhood gossip. But her words just now clearly showed a sharp understanding of superheroes and unknown threats.

Martha smiled, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes folding into a flower. She dug out a photo frame from an old wooden box beside her rocking chair. The glass was coated in dust. Inside was a young man in military uniform, an eagle perched on his shoulder, with a desert in the background—one that looked very much like the wasteland of New Mexico. "My son, Ben's comrade-in-arms." She gently wiped the frame with her fingertips. "He used to be stationed over there and told me some stories. Flying ships in the sky, people on the ground who couldn't be killed, and monsters with glowing eyes that ate children's shadows."

Lin Mo's breath caught. The flying ships were Asgard's Bifrost? The unkillable man was Wolverine? The glowing-eyed monsters... perhaps extraterrestrial creatures. Martha's Son really had connections to the X-Team. He knew far more than Lin Mo had imagined.

"He always said," Martha murmured as she placed the frame back in the box, "that peaceful days are like this layer of ice. They look solid, but one tap and they shatter. You young people always think you can change the world, but you don't understand how heavy the world is. It can crush people into dust." She raised her head, her gaze landing on Lin Mo's wristband. Though she could not see it clearly, the understanding in her eyes startled him. "Use that thing less. Especially outside. Who knows how many eyes are watching."

Lin Mo instinctively covered the wristband with his sleeve, his cheeks growing a little hot. He remembered Carlos suddenly asking him at the repair shop yesterday, "Say, if aliens came, do you think this dump of a shop could keep them out?" He had taken it as a joke then, but now it seemed his old friend might have noticed something too. This world was undergoing enormous changes. Everyone was sensing and responding in their own way. Some chose to step forward; others chose to hide.

"I understand, Mrs. Martha." Lin Mo stood and brushed the dust from his pants. "I'll be careful."

"Not careful. Stay out of it," Martha corrected him, tossing the half-knitted red sock to Snowball. The fat cat immediately hugged it and started chewing. "Iron Man has money and technology. If he wants to save the world, let him. Captain America carries a shield. If he wants to fight, let him fight. And you..." The old woman pointed at the wrench in his hand. "Fix your computers peacefully. Fix Ted's lousy magic box. That's better than anything else."

Something struck Lin Mo's heart, leaving it dull and heavy. He thought of his hopes for his new ability, his longing for Pepper Town, and suddenly felt a little ashamed. Martha was right. He was not Iron Man, with power enough to fight the world. Nor was he Captain America, burdened with the mission of saving it. He was merely an ordinary person who had accidentally gained superpowers. Perhaps all he could really do was protect this lousy building and the people around him.

"I want to get married and have kids someday. I need to live that long first." Lin Mo said it half-jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

"You will." Martha spoke with certainty and began rocking again. "As long as you don't jump into the fire pit. No matter how much the world changes, life still has to go on. Look at Ted. He talks about going to Las Vegas every day, but doesn't he still haul boxes at the logistics company? And Peter, that boy photographs spiders every day, but doesn't he still go to school and do his homework?" Her voice softened like winter sunlight. "That's life. No matter how big the trouble is, you still have to eat and sleep."

Lin Mo smiled. He walked to the window and watched Peter pile the swept snow into a crooked snowman, using coal briquettes for eyes and a carrot for its nose. He had even found a red knitted hat for it—one that looked remarkably like the sock Martha was making. "Looks like Peter took your knitted hat."

Martha leaned over to look, cursed, "That little brat," but smiled as she said it. "Forget it. Snowball doesn't like wearing that hat anyway." She put the half-knitted sock into a basket. "Stay for lunch. I made potato soup with bacon. It smells wonderful."

"Gladly." Lin Mo agreed at once. He helped Martha move her chair closer to the radiator, then added more wood to the fireplace. Orange flames licked at the logs with soft crackling sounds, warming the room until it felt cozy.

During lunch, Martha suddenly remembered something. "Oh, right. Are you going to the community Christmas market next week? I made some handmade socks to sell. If you go, help me watch the stall."

"I'll go." Lin Mo scooped up a spoonful of potato soup. Its rich fragrance mixed with the savory saltiness of bacon and melted in his mouth. "Ted said he's performing an upgraded version of his 'Turkey Transformation' trick. I need to be his assistant so he doesn't mess up the props again."

"With those lousy props of his, I think he should forget upgrading them. Otherwise it'll turn into a 'Turkey Memorial Service.'" Martha's words made Lin Mo laugh. Snowball meowed too, as if agreeing.

After lunch, Lin Mo helped wash the dishes and noticed an old photo album on Martha's bedside table. Curious, he flipped through it. Besides photographs of Martha's Son, there were yellowed newspaper clippings: a report on Iron Man revealing his identity for the first time, news of the Hulk appearing in Brazil, and even a blurry picture of a man in a blue bodysuit holding up a shield in front of a group of soldiers.

"Ben collected all those." Martha's voice came from behind him. "He always said that if you knew who the enemy was, you'd know how to avoid them."

Lin Mo closed the album and suddenly understood. Martha was not ignorant of the world's dangers. She had simply chosen to face them in the calmest way possible. She collected clippings to understand threats; she knitted wool socks to preserve her life. The courage to keep knitting socks amid a storm might be stronger than Iron Man's armor.

When Lin Mo left Martha's home, the snow had stopped. Sunlight broke through the clouds, shining over the snow and reflecting a blinding glare. Squinting, Lin Mo saw Ted emerge from the logistics company with a huge box on his back. A "Fragile" label was stuck to it—probably his newly purchased magic prop. When the man saw him, he waved excitedly and nearly dropped the box.

"Mo! Come help me take a look! I bought a new 'Human Levitation' prop! They say it can make people float!" Ted's voice echoed across the snowy ground, full of childlike excitement.

Lin Mo smiled and walked over to help him steady the box. His phasing ability activated instinctively, and he "saw" that there was a magnet and an iron plate inside. The principle was laughably simple. "This thing might fool kids."

"As long as it fools someone!" Ted did not care in the least. "I'll definitely make a fortune at the Christmas market! I'll give you half, enough to buy a new oscilloscope!"

Warmth filled Lin Mo's heart. He watched Ted struggle to drag the box home, his shadow stretching long across the snow. Suddenly, he felt that Martha's "prophecy" might not matter after all. The world would change. Aliens might come. Superheroes would save the world. But none of that stopped Ted from chasing his magic dreams, Peter from photographing his spiders, or Lin Mo from fixing his computers.

Life was like the wool sock Martha knitted. No matter how cold it was outside, there was always warmth hidden within.

Back in the basement, Lin Mo opened his notebook and looked at the New Mexico map taped inside. It no longer felt so urgent. He picked up a pen and drew a tiny wool sock beside it, then a fat cat with a ball of yarn in its mouth.

The wristband lit up, and the countdown changed to [25 Days 10 Hours 23 Minutes]. The new ability was still waiting, and the hammer in Pepper Town remained embedded in the rock, but Lin Mo's mindset had changed. He was no longer obsessed with gaining some immensely powerful ability, nor was he eager to rush toward distant battlefields.

What he had to do was spend the remaining twenty-five days helping Ted fix that ridiculous "Human Levitation" prop, accompany Martha to watch her stall at the Christmas market, celebrate Christmas with Peter and Aunt May, and then... wait for the new ability to arrive, whether it was Wolverine's regeneration, Cyclops's shockwaves, or even just Hawkeye's precise projection.

Because no matter what kind of ability it was, its ultimate meaning was to protect these ordinary moments.

Lin Mo closed the notebook. Outside, sunlight fell perfectly onto his wristband, its pale blue screen reflecting a gentle glow. He smiled, picked up his wrench, and began repairing the engine he had not finished yesterday. Carlos had said the customer was paying especially well—enough to buy a new oscilloscope with plenty left over, just right for adding some stock to Martha's Christmas sock stall.