Harvard Square is not as densely populated now as it once was, but it is recovering. Cars drive by calmly. People walk by, seeming to trail colour behind them.

Someone stares at Peter from a shadow. That someone is difficult to make out, but there's a glint of light off of something that had been raised to that someone's eyes as it's hastily put away. There's movement, but the figure in the shadows seems to hesitate, as though unsure what he should do next. A very familiar buzz of thought accompanies this shadowy shape, the idling noise of an Observer's thoughts.