Thunder rolled over the quiet suburbs of Cold Spring, dark clouds coiling low as if they, too, were reluctant to settle. A moving truck sat parked by the curb, its doors open wide, boxes stacked like silent witnesses to another forced beginning.

Inside, the house smelled of cardboard and fresh paint.

“Duncan, help me finish unpacking!” his mom’s voice called from downstairs — calm, warm, but lined with that same exhaustion she’d worn for days.

Duncan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced around the half-empty living room. His tail twitched beneath his hoodie — a reflex he’d never quite learned to control.

He moved over to help her, quietly placing framed photos on the shelves. One picture caught his eye — him, his mom, and a few friends from his old school. They were smiling, laughing even, pretending the world wasn’t full of things that could crush them in seconds.

Three days ago, that world ended.

Back in Bellwood, life had finally started to go right. The bullies had backed off — even Troy had started treating him like a person instead of a freak. Jenna, the girl he’d liked since freshman year, had started to look at him the way he’d always hoped she would. He was a hero now — or at least, he had been.

But then came the last Kaiju attack. The mayor’s speech. The evacuation order.

“Too dangerous to have around,” that’s what they called him.

A walking disaster zone.

The government had offered to pay for the damages, to relocate them somewhere quiet, somewhere safe. As if any place could be safe when Kaiju could smell his presence from miles away — when every roar in the distance made him wonder if it was his fault.

So they packed. They left. And now, here they were.

His mom straightened a lamp and looked over at him, eyes softening when she saw his shoulders droop. “Duncan… I don’t want you thinking this is your fault.”

He didn’t answer. His claws tightened slightly around a picture frame before he set it down.

“Duncan,” she said again, gentler this time.

He turned slightly, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m fine, Mom. Really. I’m starting a new school tomorrow — just nervous, that’s all.”

Her eyebrow lifted. “You know I can tell when you’re lying.”

He looked away. “Guess I need more practice.”

She walked over and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry we had to move. But it’s for the best…”

He stood still, her warmth grounding him for just a moment — before the words hit.

“The best for who, Mom?” he muttered, pulling away softly.

Without waiting for an answer, he turned and headed upstairs.

His footsteps echoed through the hall until his bedroom door shut with a quiet click.

Duncan sat on the edge of his bed, staring out the window at the small, quiet neighborhood. Streetlights flickered to life against the coming storm, painting the glass with orange reflections.

He raised his hand, staring at the faint scales that shimmered along the back of his knuckles — a reminder of what he was. Half human. Half Kaiju. Entirely out of place.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand — a FaceTime from Jenna. For a second, his chest lifted. Then he hesitated. Swiped it away.

Then came a knock. Three soft taps against the front door.

Duncan’s ear twitched — a reflex he still hadn’t gotten used to — and his eyes opened.

“Duncan!” his mom’s voice called from downstairs. “Sweetie, come down — it’s our new neighbors!”

He groaned quietly, sitting up. Great. Day three and we’re already doing the whole meet-and-greet thing.

“Coming!” he called, trying to sound normal.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, his mom was already at the door, greeting a family standing on the porch under a dripping umbrella. A man and woman, probably in their late thirties, and a girl about Duncan’s age.