🌙

And still- it had been a fair trade. The bitter memory stung fresh as you remembered how he’d emptied the bottle, that final gulp serving as his own unspoken confession. He had answered you, too, though without words. It was as if he’d known exactly what you would say before the question had even left his lips, as if this ugly truth was something you were both doomed to share.

The thought clawed at you, heavier than the liquor in your stomach. You weren’t sure if it comforted you or made you hate him more. Hate him for daring to ask you something like that, for dragging the ugliest part of you into the open. And yet, even through the anger, you found yourself wondering what he was doing now in his own room.

He had seemed untouched compared to you- colder, harder, like the whole thing had just rolled off him. But you knew Rex wasn’t the kind of man to show his vulnerabilities so easily. He had a dozen ways to bury them: sarcasm sharp enough to cut anyone down, the constant game of fucking around, hurting people before they could hurt him- just like he had done with Eve and many others for sure. And then, of course, the drinking, always the drinking, another way to blur the edges so he didn’t have to stare too long at whatever was underneath.

You didn’t know what exactly he was running from, but after that stupid game he’d insisted on playing, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d seen a sliver of it. That, in some twisted way, you were closer to him now-bound by something intimate and raw, nothing to do with attraction, and everything to do with broken pieces you both carried.

You felt nauseous. The alcohol sat heavy in your gut, mixing with an almost empty stomach, a night tangled up with Rex, and a chain of bad decisions that left you on the edge of throwing up. Tears clawed at your throat, choking you, spilling hot and endless down your face. You prayed Rae couldn’t hear you through the walls since her room was right next to yours, and you couldn’t bear the thought of her knowing what state you were in.

As for your other neighbor… Rex. Somehow, a part of you almost wished he could hear you crying. That he might come back, even after you had pushed him away. The thought made you sick in another way, pathetic, desperate, but still, the craving sat there. You wanted to explain, to justify, to take the half-truth you had blurted out and stretch it into the whole ugly story. Because, maybe, he would have understood.

And to think you were so sure it would’ve gone in a completely different direction. The way he’d looked at you last night- God, you could still feel it. You knew for sure it wasn’t just your imagination playing mind games. His gaze had lingered too long, dipped too low, like he didn’t even care that you caught him staring. Every few seconds, his eyes would flicker from yours to your mouth, then back again, like he was fighting with himself and losing.

And you were no better. You were much worse. You’d traced every inch of him in silence, drunk and shameless, memorizing details you shouldn’t have noticed. His face looked softer up close, less guarded than usual- still sharp around the jaw, still all attitude, but with something human underneath the bruises and sarcasm. His skin caught the faint glow from the shitty bedside lamp, and you could see how the light brushed against the small scars along his neck and forearms, the kind that told stories he’d never tell.

You’d noticed the way his shoulders flexed with even the smallest movement, how his hands- rough, callused, and a little trembling from the booze- still somehow looked steady. Warm, heavy, alive. You remembered thinking that he radiated heat, that if you reached out, he’d burn. And maybe that’s what you wanted- something to burn away the ache that had settled in you for so long.

His hair was pulled into that messy bun that should’ve looked stupid, but didn’t. His jaw was clean-shaven for once, revealing the faint cut on his chin, probably from training. He looked tired, yes, but still mischievous in that careless way he carried himself.

You’d wanted him. Not just in that reckless, alcohol-fueled way- though that was definitely part of it- but in that deeper, quieter sense that scared the hell out of you. You’d wanted to kiss him, to feel the warmth of his skin, to see if that constant heat you felt from him was real. To press your lips against the grin that always seemed one bad joke away from returning.

You knew it would’ve been impulsive. Stupid. Another in a long line of terrible choices you’d add to the pile. The kind that felt good for a few seconds and then haunted you in the morning. But even then, even as the rational part of your brain screamed that it would be a mistake, there had been another part- a quieter, meaner part- that knew you’d still want to do it again.

But the regret you felt now wasn’t about that. It wasn’t about almost kissing him, or wanting something you shouldn’t have wanted. No, this regret was heavier. Thicker. It sat in your chest like ash.

Because instead of crossing that line, instead of doing something stupid but harmless, you’d said too much. You’d let him see the part of you you’d buried for years- the rot beneath the bad jokes, the guilt you carried like a second heartbeat. And somehow, you’d given it to him of all people.

The guy who hid everything behind a smirk. The guy who turned pain into punchlines. The guy who never stuck around long enough for anything real.

You’d been so sure that if something had happened between you two, it would’ve been physical, fleeting, easy to compartmentalize. A mistake you could laugh off or bury under another bottle. But this? What actually happened? It was worse.

You didn’t just undress yourself in front of him- you stripped down your soul. You showed him the part of you that should’ve stayed locked behind a thousand walls. And he’d seen it. He’d seen you.

And the worst part? He hadn’t run. And that thought- the possibility that he actually got it- confused you more than anything else.

If your mind had been clearer, if your body hadn’t been weighed down by liquor and exhaustion, you probably would have teleported straight into his room, demanding he listen, dumping your past onto him like it was his burden to share. You could almost see yourself standing in his doorway, slurring, shaking, desperate to be heard.

But your powers betrayed you. The alcohol dulled your limbs, kept you pinned in place, your muscles too heavy to obey. And for that, you were almost grateful. Grateful that the same thing poisoning you was also keeping you from crossing that invisible line you knew you shouldn’t. Because your mind was a storm of contradictions- hating him, wanting him, fearing him, needing him. It was a mess you couldn’t untangle tonight, not like this.

So instead you lay there, sobbing quietly into the dark, hoping the walls were thick enough for Rae not to hear- yet thin enough for Rex to.

Curled up on the floor, you felt like you didn’t even deserve the comfort of your bed. Not tonight. Not after everything. It wasn’t just about what you’d done- it was about the mess you’d let yourself get dragged into, the trap you’d stepped into with your eyes open. The wooden floor was cold against your skin, grounding in a way the mattress could never be. You pressed your forehead to your knees, arms wrapped tight around yourself, as if you could shrink small enough to disappear.

Nothing could excuse it. No amount of training, no orders, no desperate circumstances could erase the fact that you were complicit in a crime. That blood wasn’t metaphorical- it was real, it was there, it had soaked into the parts of your soul that you could never scrub clean. You thought about the faces of the people you’d tried to save, about all the times you told yourself you were on the “right” side. But tonight, that story didn’t hold up. Tonight, you were just another person who had crossed a line you swore you wouldn’t.

Your stomach twisted painfully, the liquor churning like acid. Every time you tried to breathe, it felt like shards of glass scraping your chest. The tears wouldn’t stop; they blurred your vision until the floor and walls and ceiling melted into one shapeless black mass. You could taste salt on your lips, feel the tremor in your fingers, and with every passing second you hated yourself a little more for being so weak.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to stand up, to crawl into bed, to wash your face. You stayed there on the floor, trembling, because somehow the hard wood felt like penance. Like the bare minimum of what you owed. And though part of you screamed to reach for your phone, to reach for him, to reach for anyone, you stayed silent, because you knew-deep down- that none of it would change what you’d done.

*

A heavy, threatening knock rattled your door, jolting you out of whatever half-conscious haze you had been stuck in. You hadn’t even realized how much time had passed. It wasn’t like you’d slept- you’d just been caught in that limbo between present and past, between exhaustion and guilt. Every bone in your body throbbed from spending the night curled on the hard floor, your limbs stiff and heavy as if they’d been filled with lead. The cold wood had imprinted its shape into your skin, and for a second you weren’t sure you could even move.

Another knock came, louder this time, more insistent. You flinched, your heart lurching into your throat. Your mind scrambled, still foggy from the alcohol and the sleeplessness. Panic surged in small waves- what if someone barged in and found you like this? What if it was him? Worst-case scenarios bloomed in your skull, overlapping each other until you could barely think straight.

With an effort that felt monumental, you managed to force some sound out of your dry throat, your voice coming out like a low groan. “Yeah… what?” It was barely above a mutter, but it was the best you could do. You weren’t about to risk anyone opening the door and seeing you like this- eyes swollen, face streaked with dried tears, body coiled up like a kicked animal.

“Training. Fifteen,” came Immortal’s voice from the other side. Flat. Bored. Impersonal. The same tone he used for every order, every command. You stared at the door, your pulse hammering. For a heartbeat you wondered if he knew. If somehow he’d pieced together what you’d confessed to Rex last night. But no- he wouldn’t sound so casual if he had. Would he?

You exhaled slowly, your hands shaking where they pressed into the floor. Fifteen minutes. That was all the time you had to pull yourself together, to scrub off the evidence of last night, to pretend you were fine. Fifteen minutes to climb out of the pit you’d built for yourself and put the mask back on.

You pulled your suit on in the dark, fumbling with the fabric like it weighed a hundred pounds. Opening the blinds and letting the morning sun in felt like too much effort, too much exposure. You didn’t even bother with the bathroom- just blinked yourself straight into the kitchen, praying no one would be there. Luck was on your side; the place was empty. You splashed cold water over your face at the sink, watching pale droplets run down your reflection in the polished faucet, before teleporting again, this time directly into the training hall. The less time you spent in common areas, the fewer eyes you’d have to meet.

Already late by a few minutes. He was there, of course. Standing with that same loose, lazy posture, the one that screamed he didn’t give a damn about anything. His goggles hid most of his face, but you could guess there were dark circles under his eyes, the kind that would’ve given away a sleepless night. Not that it mattered. He carried the same attitude as always, as if exhaustion was just another nuisance he’d learned to ignore. Like nothing about last night had touched him at all.

You felt something twist in your gut at the sight of him looking so unaffected. For you, the night had cracked something open; for him, it looked like just another encounter, just another round of drinks before training.

It gnawed at you, torturing you as you stood there. Had it really been nothing to him? What had been his plan when he suggested that stupid game? Was it just to pass time, to actually get to know you? Did he want to sleep with you, get you drunk enough to spill your secrets? Or had he just wanted to peel you open, strip you of every layer until you were bare and vulnerable, just another notch in whatever twisted coping mechanism he lived by?

You didn’t know. And the not knowing burned worse than anything you’d confessed. You just hoped, prayed even, that your face- hollow and blotched from crying- wasn’t betraying the storm clawing inside you.

Still, his gaze didn’t move. He just kept looking. No grin this time. No quip to break the tension. Just silence.

Immortal’s voice cut through the gym like a blade of static. “Two-on-two sparring today. Push yourselves. No holding back.” The same monotone, the same hollow, disinterested drone.

You didn’t hear half of it. Your head was a cavern, echoing with too much noise already.

“Bulletproof and Neon. Rex and Monster Girl. Get moving.”

Fuck. My. Life.

You shifted on your feet, boots suddenly heavy as concrete. Bulletproof stretched his neck beside you, his jaw tight, already preparing for war like he did before every match. Losing wasn’t in his vocabulary. He’d tear into you if you cost him a win. And Rex- Rex was the opposite. Loose, poor posture, hands dangling at his sides like none of this mattered. But you knew better. That relaxed stance was a lie. When he turned it on, he was lethal. He always was.

And the worst part? He wasn’t even looking at you. Not really. His goggles hid most of his face, but you’d spent enough time around him to recognize when he was hiding.

You hoped- no, you needed- that your own face wasn’t a fucking billboard. You didn’t want anyone, least of all him, to see how wrecked you were.

The match started. Bulletproof lunged forward like a tank, and you forced your powers to catch up, teleporting a few feet at the last possible second. Too late. Always too late. You stumbled, the air still rippling around you, and Monster Girl nearly clipped your arm.

Then Rex moved. He didn’t fight like someone tired, even though you knew he hadn’t slept. He fought like someone with something to bury.

And every strike sent you spiraling into memory.

Amanda’s fist slammed past your shoulder- The glass clinked against the counter, your hand trembling as you tipped in too many pills.

His boot kicked low, sweeping you off balance- The stench of liquor and beer thick in the air, the man snoring on the couch. His chest rising and falling, his face slack, vulnerable. You’d told yourself it was just to get him to sleep, to get him out of the way for just a couple of hours. You’d believed it. You’d believed him.

You teleported too late again, crashing into the mat with a grunt. Pain exploded up your ribs. The smell of smoke flooded your senses, even though the gym reeked only of sweat and dust.

The fire. The hut. The orange glow lighting up the night like hell itself had opened its doors. His body inside. Your boyfriend standing outside, the flames reflecting in his eyes, his mouth curled into something between relief and satisfaction.

And you had cried. God, you had cried, the weight of it slamming into you like a truck the second you realized what had actually happened. But he hadn’t. He’d held you, said it was done, it was over. That you were safe now.

But you weren’t. You had never been safe since.

Rex’s elbow grazed you, just enough to sting, and it dragged you back to the present. Except the present wasn’t any kinder. You were raw, exposed, and you knew it showed. Your body lagged behind every command, your powers slipping like water through your fingers.

He didn’t say a word. Not one. But he also wasn’t aiming to break you. You knew what it looked like when Rex wanted to hurt someone- he hit like a hammer, fast and merciless. With you, now, there was just enough restraint to tell you the truth he’d never admit out loud.

He cared. Just enough to pull his punches. Just enough to let you stumble without finishing you off. Just enough to let you breathe.

And it made it worse.

Because if last night had been just another distraction to him, you could have hated him cleanly. But he had chosen that stupid game, chosen those words, chosen to dig, chosen to share in the ugliest ways he knew. He had peeled you of every defense until the confession spilled out of your mouth- the one thing you’d promised yourself you’d never tell another living soul.

And now here you were, choking on guilt, half-drunk with exhaustion, with him standing across from you like nothing had changed. Like the world hadn’t collapsed in your chest.

Bulletproof always took practice sparring way to fucking seriously- his shoulders were heaving, fists swinging with that brutal precision that came from pride, not mercy. You were barely holding it together, your head throbbing, your powers lagging behind your instincts. Every teleport was a second too late. Every dodge was clumsy. And from across the mat, his voice cut through the ringing in your ears- sharp, unforgiving.

“Wake the fuck up, Neon!”

But you couldn’t. Not really. It was like your body had decided to stop trying before your mind had even caught up. Then, in slow motion, you saw Monster Girl’s fist coming at you. There was no time to blink out, no will to. The hit sent you sprawling back, skull slamming against the cold floor. A shock of pain burst through your jaw, the metallic tang of blood blooming on your tongue.

And just like that- another hit, this one from memory.

“I’m fucking done with this shit,” Dean said, his voice quiet, almost fragile- like the words themselves had splintered on their way out.

You two sat crouched on the curb behind a row of overflowing dumpsters, hidden from the any form of ligjt by the cracked shadow of a brick wall. The ground was damp, sticky from spilled beer and god-knows-what, the kind of place where even the rats seemed too tired to move. The air reeked of cigarette smoke, rotten fruit, sour metal, and that unmistakable bite of old urine that clung to every dark alley in the damned place. Every breath felt heavy, like inhaling the leftovers of a hundred bad decisions.

Dean took a slow drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing faintly in the night before fading to a dull orange. He looked smaller than usual- his shoulders hunched, his hoodie torn at the cuff, his knuckles raw and scabbed, the skin over them cracked like dry earth. You could smell the cheap tobacco burning, sharp and bitter, blending with the stench of trash and rust.

“I was thinking last night…” he muttered, his voice thick with exhaustion. “When I was looking at the old man.” He stopped for a moment, staring at the space between his shoes, and you could almost picture it: Dean’s hollow stare fixed on his father’s passed-out body, surrounded by empty bottles and the stench of alcohol-soaked wood. The old man sleeping in that collapsing hut, snoring through his own misery. “I want just one day of peace,” he said finally, voice trembling but low, almost tender. “When I can just stay in bed, without risking to get my head cut open by some fucking vodka bottle.”

You didn’t say anything. The cigarette in your hand burned unevenly, the smoke curling in the cold air, twisting like something alive. You watched him drag the tip of a stick through the dirt, tracing mindless circles, small lines that turned into nothing. He always did that when he didn’t want to meet your eyes- when the thoughts got too dark to speak aloud.

You looked at his hands instead. The bruises were old in some places, fresh in others-layers of pain stacked on top of each other, like he’d never given them a chance to heal. You wondered if he could still feel anything through that calloused skin. Or maybe it was easier for him not to. His jaw flexed every so often, the cigarette twitching between his lips, ash crumbling down onto his sneakers.

You wanted to tell him it would get better. That things didn’t always have to be this way. That he could stop fighting so hard just to breathe. You even opened your mouth- but nothing came out. You knew it would sound fake. Like all those cheap lines people said when they were too scared to tell the truth. So instead, you just nodded, letting the silence stretch between you until it hurt. Your throat was dry; the unfiltered cigarettes burned your lungs, and the night air clung to your clothes, heavy with decay.

Dean exhaled slowly, the smoke rolling past his lips like a sigh. Then he turned to you for the first time that night. His eyes- dark, red-rimmed, and tired beyond his years- met yours. There was a flicker of… something there.

“And… I think you might be able to help me with that,” he said finally, his tone softer now, calculated almost.

Before you could ask what he meant, he leaned closer, one hand brushing lightly against the back of your neck, pulling your forehead to his. His skin was warm despite the cold, and you could smell the faint trace of smoke and sweat on him. For a moment, it almost felt comforting- like two broken pieces trying to find warmth in each other.

“How?” you whispered, your voice smaller than you wanted it to be. You wanted to believe there was something pure in that request, some chance to make things better.

But there was something unreadable in his eyes when he looked back at you. A kind of stillness that made your heart skip, a quiet plotting behind the tired facade. You didn’t know it then- but whatever peace he was talking about, it wasn’t the kind that let people wake up the next morning.

A sharp sting burst across your cheek before your mind could even catch up to what was happening. The world snapped back into focus with a violent jolt, colors returning too bright, sounds too piercing. Your lungs burned as if you’d been holding your breath for hours. You blinked a few times, realizing Rae was crouched beside you. Her gloved hand was still half-raised from the slap, concern etched into her brow, though the rest of her looked… composed. Calm. You guessed this wasn’t her first time reviving someone from a mental spiral mid-training. Of course it wasn’t- she’d been doing this whole superhero thing since she was younger than you. A lot younger.

“Hey, there you are,” Rae greeted your return to consciousness with a gentle smile, “You alright now?”

Your head throbbed, and your tongue tasted faintly of blood and metal. “Yeah,” you muttered, rubbing the side of your skull where it had met the floor. “What the hell happened?”

Your surroundings slowly sharpened: the cold air of the training hall, the faint hum of the fluorescent lights above, the sour scent of sweat clinging to the concrete walls. Everyone had stopped what they were doing- all eyes on you.

“I happened. Sorry,” Amanda said, though she knew damn well there was no need to apologize. It was just a training exercise- and you were the one who fucked it up.

“You sure you’re good?” Rae pressed, tilting her head as she studied you. “You’ve been off all morning.”

Her words were muffled, like she was speaking from another room. Because the only thing you could focus on was him.

He stood a few paces away, sweat glistening faintly along the collar of his suit, chest rising and falling in an unbothered rhythm. The goggles were off now, dangling loosely from his hand, and without them you could finally see his face. A bruise was forming along his left cheekbone, deep violet under his skin- Bulletproof’s work of art. It sure went well with his dark circles.

His gaze found yours and stayed there, steady, unflinching. The same lazy posture, but something behind his eyes felt more accentuated, darker. Maybe guilt. Maybe nothing. Maybe he really didn’t care.

Your breath caught. His stare was disarming in the worst possible way- equal parts comfort and danger. You wanted to hate him for how calm he seemed, for the way his expression didn’t flinch even when yours probably gave you away. But the truth was not that simple. You wanted him. You wanted to grab him by that stupid dark shirt and kiss him until you couldn’t remember why you were angry.

Your fingers twitched at your sides. Your jaw locked. You bit down hard on your lip, trying to hold back the tears threatening to give you away.

Rae followed your line of sight, her eyebrows knitting in confusion when she noticed where your eyes were locked. “Oh,” she said quietly under her breath, catching on to the silent, loaded tension that hung between you and Rex.

“Neon.” Immortal’s voice cracked the air like a whip. His tone was as sharp and detached as ever. “Get back to your room and rest. Don’t ever show up to training in this vegetable state again. We don’t have time for it.”

You didn’t bother arguing. You didn’t trust your voice not to break.

Instead, you exhaled sharply through your nose, rolled your eyes like it didn’t matter, and pushed yourself up from the mat. Your legs wobbled slightly, muscles heavy and sluggish, but you forced yourself to straighten. For a brief second, you met Rex’s gaze one last time-his mouth barely moved, but his jaw tightened, like he wanted to say something and stopped himself.

You didn’t wait to see if he’d follow. You just turned on your heel, shoulders rigid, and disappeared before anyone could watch you crumble- teleporting straight into the quiet, suffocating dark of your room.

And as the air around you settled, the silence pressed down hard, and you realized you’d rather take another hit to the face than deal with the war he’d just reignited inside your chest.

You needed something to take your mind off it. Fast. Anything that didn’t involve Rex. Or Rae, for that matter. The reasons were completely different- Rae, because you couldn’t possibly explain yourself to her without unravelling everything, and Rex, because you couldn’t even explain your own damn feelings to yourself.

You dragged your hands over your face, palms cold against your flushed skin. You needed distraction- something mechanical, logical, detached. Something that wouldn’t bleed.

And, unfortunately, you had just the thing.

The paradox.

The thought hit you like a shot of cold air, the only spark of purpose left in the foggy mess of your brain. You’d been avoiding it for a while now, pushing it aside under the excuse of training and exhaustion and emotional breakdowns- but the truth was, you hadn’t wanted to face what it meant. To mess with time. To interfere again.

Still, the thought of your parents- how the chain of events that led to you even existing was hanging by a thread- made the decision for you. You needed to make sure they were still part of the same equation. Same variables. Same outcome. Even if the entire universe had already rewritten the math once, you couldn’t risk it falling apart again.

Not now.

You leaned back against the wall, trying to focus through the pounding in your skull. If fate had once managed to put them in the same place, at the same time, maybe it could happen again- with a little push. Only this time, you’d be the one setting the coordinates. Not chance. Not destiny. You.

It sounded like something you shouldn’t touch- something dangerous, like lighting a match in a room full of ga- but the thought steadied you. It gave you something tangible to cling to.

And if you were honest with yourself, it was easier to think about paradoxes and equations and the fragile symmetry of time than it was to think about Rex’s stare, or his bruised jaw, or the way your pulse had jumped the moment he looked at you.

At least with the paradox, you could pretend it was just math. Numbers. Rules.

Not feelings you didn’t understand and couldn’t afford to have.

The irony wasn’t lost on you- the shelves were completely empty. Not a single bottle in sight. That was… weird. Unexpected, even. Still, your body craved a small comfort. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d had a drink. Ever since that whole conversation on the balcony with Rex, you’d stopped seeking solace in alcohol, at least consciously. But one small sip, you reasoned, couldn’t possibly cause any harm.

Your mind drifted back to that very first night at Guardians HQ, when half the team had crammed themselves into Rae’s room for drinks. You vividly remembered the complaints about Immortal’s “secret stash.” The consensus? His liquor and wine tasted like battery acid mixed with piss. Still, at this point, you didn’t give a damn about taste. After everything you’d choked down in the apocalypse just to feel something- food, water, the occasional suspicious brew- you were pretty confident a bad drink wasn’t going to kill you.

Immortal’s room was all the way down the hall. Rae had once mentioned, half-bitterly, that his bedroom was way bigger than anyone else’s. Unfair. You’d laughed then, but now, standing at his door, it didn’t seem as funny. Oddly enough, the door was already slightly cracked open, and the darkness inside was total, swallowing the space whole. Pretty fitting for a caveman. Still, you weren’t about to risk pushing the door further- God forbid it screeched like a haunted attic hinge and woke him up.

So you teleported inside.

The air was stale; you held your breath as you moved carefully, hands out like you were blind. It wasn’t your first time stealing, not that you were proud of it. Back under Viltrumite rule, survival didn’t leave much room for morality. If you didn’t want to starve, sometimes you had to play the outlaw.

Your fingers brushed over something smooth, cold- glass. You curled your hand around the neck of the bottle, already imagining the burn of alcohol down your throat. But before you could celebrate, a warm hand clamped down over your mouth from behind.

Your body went rigid. A voice hissed low against your ear: “What the fuck are you doing here?”

It was Rex.

You froze, heat crawling up your neck at the realization of just how close he was as his breath hit the side of your face. He released you, probably expecting a swing in retaliation.

You whipped around, glaring, whisper-yelling back: “Me? What the fuck are you doing here?”

Of course. Of course it had to be him. Out of all people, out of all the possible stupid places, you had to stumble into him in the middle of a nighttime booze raid.

“How the hell do you even know about this- ” Rex started, but his words cut off the second a low groan rumbled from the bed.

Immortal shifted under the sheets.

Your blood ran cold.

Panic set in instantly, a hundred alarms blaring in your brain. Shit. Shit. Shit. What the hell was I thinking? Stealing booze from the team leader? At two in the goddamn morning? This wasn’t some harmless prank. This was career suicide.

There was no time to debate. You didn’t think- you reacted. In the blink of a blue flash, you were gone, empty-handed, back in the safety of your room. Your chest heaved as the guilt hit you like a punch.

You left Rex.

Fuck.

Heart hammering, you cracked your door open just enough to peek into the hallway. Sure enough, a figure bolted out of Immortal’s room- Rex, sprinting like the devil himself was on his ass. His eyes locked on yours just as you waved frantically, gesturing him over. Without hesitation, he barreled down the hall and into your room. You slammed the door behind him, cutting off the sound of his bare feet on the floor.

He was panting, hands on his knees, chest heaving like he’d just run a marathon. And pissed- oh, more pissed than you’d ever seen him.

“Why the fuck didn’t you take me with you?!” His voice wasn’t quite a yell, but it was loud enough to make you flinch. Definitely not the kind of volume you wanted echoing at that hour.

“What?” you asked, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He straightened up, jabbing a finger at you. His face was red- not just from sprinting. “Do I really need to spell it out for you? You can teleport! You blinked your ass out of there and just left me? You couldn’t have taken me with you?!”

“Because I’ve never tried it before!” The words shot out of you like a confession you’d been holding back.

That got him. His anger flickered, collapsing into disbelief. He blinked, eyebrows shooting up. “What?!”

“I said I’ve never tried it before!” you repeated, voice rising, though you tried to keep it to a harsh whisper. “I don’t know if it works on other people. I don’t know if it’d shred you into tiny chunks or spit you out halfway across the goddamn planet! I didn’t exactly feel like gambling with your life, okay?”

Rex stared at you, caught between confusion and fury, like he couldn’t decide whether to keep yelling or process what you’d just said. His jaw tightened, loosening only enough for him to grind out one more word: “What?!”

This time it wasn’t loud- it was sharp, incredulous.

You rubbed your face with both hands, groaning into your palms. “God, I should’ve just stayed in bed.”

A knock on the door. Then another, harder. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Your pulse spiked instantly. Rex’s eyes went wide, and without a single word, he scrambled for cover, ducking into the most obvious but only available spot- wedged behind the door. Genius. If Immortal so much as stepped inside, both of you were screwed.

You swallowed hard, forcing your breathing to slow. Calm. You needed calm. With shaky fingers, you cracked the door open just enough to peek through, angling your face into the light so only your head showed.

And there he was.

Immortal.

It was probably the first time you’d ever seen him in anything other than his suit. His broad frame was draped in striped pajamas, the robe hanging off him like something out of a painting. If he’d been holding a candle, he’d look like some old ghost wandering a castle.

“Oh… uh, what can I do for you?” you asked, stretching out a fake yawn so wide it almost cracked your jaw. You even rubbed your eyes for good measure, praying he’d buy it. “It’s really late,” you added, dragging your words sluggishly like you’d just rolled out of bed.

“Yes,” he said flatly, his voice heavy with authority, as always. “It is late.” His eyes narrowed, scanning past you, as though trying to peer through the crack in the door. “I heard noise outside my bedroom. And I noticed light coming from here. Do you happen to know anything about that?”

Your heart skipped. He sounded suspicious. Too suspicious. You forced your face into something blank, unfazed, even a little bored. “No. I don’t.” You shrugged, letting your voice fall flat, casual. “I just got up to use the bathroom. You know… private business. That’s why my light wasn’t out yet.”

The silence that followed felt like a noose tightening around your neck. His piercing stare weighed on you, like he was measuring every micro-expression, waiting for you to slip. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Immortal’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Fine,” he said at last, though his tone carried no actual belief. “Don’t be late for training tomorrow.”

You bobbed your head quickly. “Yeah. Got it.”

He lingered half a second longer, then turned, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hall until the sound finally faded.

You shut the door- fast, maybe a little too fast- and leaned your forehead against it, exhaling so hard your chest ached. Your knees felt weak, adrenaline crashing down in waves. For a second, you thought you might collapse right there.

From behind you came a harsh whisper. “Nice fucking cover story, by the way,” Rex muttered, still crouched, looking both relieved and pissed.

You spun on him, half panicked, half annoyed. “Do not start with me right now.” Your voice was sharp, but shaky from the adrenaline still buzzing in your veins. “Went through all of that for nothing,” you added bitterly, throwing your hands up. The sting of failure burned worse than the close call itself- you hadn’t even managed to grab a damn drink.

Rex snorted under his breath, that smug grin already creeping back onto his face. “You’re such an amateur,” he drawled, pushing himself up to his feet. Then, as if twisting the knife, he lifted something shiny in the dim light and gave it a little shake. Glass clinked. A gin bottle.

Your eyes widened as he jiggled it, the liquid inside sloshing lazily. You crossed your arms, unimpressed but not hiding the way your gaze lingered on the bottle. “Well, you’d be an even bigger jerk if you didn’t share it.” You didn’t smile. You weren’t joking. You meant it.

Rex cocked his head, clearly enjoying this way too much. “Nu-uh,” he said, wagging a finger, grin widening. “Not that easy. If you wanna drink, you gotta play.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Play what?”

He flopped down onto the edge of your bed uninvited, unscrewing the cap with a pop. He took a swig first, long and deliberate, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he looked up at you with that shit-eating grin.

“I never.”

“What?” you blinked, confused.

“I never,” he repeated, as if that explained everything in the world.

You rolled your eyes, exhaling sharply as you dropped yourself at the foot of the bed- far enough from him that there was no chance of brushing knees. No way in hell were you climbing onto the mattress while he was still spread out like that.

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” you asked, stretching out your arm impatiently.

He tossed the bottle lazily; you caught it with both hands, startled, and gave him a glare for the unnecessary dramatics. By then, Rex had slid off the mattress and plunked himself onto the floor, leaning back against the wall with one leg stretched out and the other bent.

“Think of it as… a way to get to know each other,” he said, eyes glinting. His tone was teasing, but there was something sharper underneath, a challenge, daring you to walk away.

Your stomach knotted with hesitation. You already had doubts. Many, in fact. But the universe- or fate, or whatever cruel joke it was- kept shoving the two of you into these stupid situations together. Maybe, for once, you shouldn’t run. Maybe you should just… see where it went.

You took a big sip. “Fine. But if this is some lame excuse for you to get me drunk, I swear-”

He raised both hands, palms out. “Hey, all fair play. I’ll start. For example…” He leaned forward, a smug smile curving his lips. “I know you never went to high school.”

The words hit like a jab. You froze mid-motion, bottle halfway to your mouth. “And how the hell do you know that?” you asked flatly.

For anyone else, the explanation would’ve been obvious. There weren’t exactly functioning schools in the apocalypse. But you were dead certain that wasn’t Rex’s reasoning.

He smirked, leaning his head back against the wall like he was letting you walk into his trap. “Simple. If you had, you’d already know how to play I never.”

You scoffed, finally taking a sharp gulp from the bottle just to cover the fact that he’d gotten to you. The gin burned like hell- not to mention it was absolutely disgusting- searing down your throat, but you weren’t about to let him see you flinch.

“This is such a teenage boy game,” you said, half-laughing, waiting for him to prove his point.

Rex leaned back against the wall, grin spreading wide. “Alright, first round. I never fucked a man.”

Your jaw nearly dropped. Oh, so that’s how he was planning on playing. Straight for shock value.

“I don’t believe you,” you shot back, smirking despite yourself.

“Now you drink,” he nudged. “’Cause you did that.”

You hesitated, eyes squinting, but rules were rules. You took a slow sip before setting the bottle back down between you, your cheeks warming for reasons you didn’t want to admit.

“My turn,” you said, voice firmer. “I never implied I went to high school when I clearly didn’t.”

Rex scoffed, rolling his eyes as if you’d pulled a cheap shot. Still, he raised the bottle in mock salute before taking a swig, a lopsided smile of defeat tugging at his face.

“I’ve never had a one-night stand,” you said, since the question had popped into your head.

Rex shifted, eyebrows shooting up. “It was my turn to ask, you know?”

“Didn’t peg you for the type to care about whose turn it is.”

“Didn’t peg you for the type to refuse a fun night,” he shot back without missing a beat.

“Guess you don’t know me that well after all,” you teased, watching him finally take a long swig as his answer.

After a few seconds of thinking, his grin stretched wider. “Alright, fine. I never made out with someone I didn’t feel attracted to,”

You just shrugged, unfazed, watching him tilt the bottle back again.

“Oh, come the fuck on,” he groaned, rolling his eyes. “That’s half the fun.”

“Ew,” you muttered, though your stomach twisted a little at how casually he said it. He wasn’t lying- you knew Rex hit on girls just for sport.

He set the bottle down with a heavy clink, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. “What? Don’t look at me like that. I live in the moment.”

“Yeah, more like you live in everyone’s mouth,” you fired back, crossing your arms.

“Well, since you decided to jump turns, I get another question. I never faked an orgasm.”

Your head snapped toward him. “Are you serious right now?”

“Dead serious.” He wiggled the bottle at you, daring you.

You narrowed your eyes, but your silence was already an answer.

“Ha! Knew it. Fucking knew it.”

“Shut up, Rex.” You grabbed the bottle, took a long drink just to shut him up, and shoved it back into his chest.

He was laughing, shoulders shaking. You smacked his arm. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Yeah, but at least I’m honest,” he said, leaning in just a fraction closer, his voice lowering in that familiar teasing drawl. “I’ve never had anyone fake it with me.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you laughed, shaking your head, refusing to buy a single word of it. “You men always think it never happened to you- but if you weren’t aware of this little secret, newsflash: every woman’s faked it at least once.” You delivered it like some grand revelation, letting the words hang in the air for a beat.

“Mhm,” he said, letting the corner of his mouth twitch into a sly grin. “Guess you don’t know me that well either.”

You shook your head, trying to act unimpressed, but couldn’t help stealing a glance at him anyway. You tapped your nails against your thigh, thinking. The alcohol was already making you bold. “Alright. I never… sent a dick pic.”

Rex snorted so hard he nearly choked. “What kind of rookie-ass question is that? Course I have.” He tilted the bottle and took a long gulp. “Shit, I’ve sent enough to fill a damn calendar.”

You made a face. “God, you’re disgusting.”

The questions dragged on endlessly, each round loosening your tongue a little more, and the alcohol only made everything feel funnier, more reckless. You felt unusually light, almost too exposed for your liking, especially with him sitting that close. The night had shifted subtly, tipping into something quieter, something more intimate. Stripped of pretenses, you were learning about parts of each other you would never have admitted out loud while sober- tiny truths, embarrassing confessions, glimpses of the layers beneath the bravado. It felt… strange, but undeniably nice, like finding a secret doorway into someone else’s world. And yet, a thread of caution tugged at your chest. You hoped, desperately, that this closeness wouldn’t slip into a mistake, that the almost imperceptible space between you wouldn’t collapse, and that you could enjoy this fragile, precarious connection without anything breaking.

“I never kissed someone I shouldn’t have,” he blurted out, his tone robbed of any trace of amusement.

You quietly took a sip, letting the liquid slide down your throat, while Rex tilted the bottle back in a slow, casual motion before passing it toward you. His fingers lingered over the glass for a moment longer than necessary, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. The atmosphere shifted in an instant, a heavier weight settling between you.

“I never hated my family,” the words escaped your mouth, your voice quieter than usual, the alcohol loosening the walls you kept around your thoughts. You watched as Rex tipped his head back, letting the bottle hit his lips, his jaw flexing as he swallowed. There was a strange, almost fragile light in his eyes that you’d never noticed before. You didn’t take a sip this time; the word “hate” felt too loaded, not the right one to describe the relationship you had with your parents.

“I never cried in front of someone,” Rex said next, voice firm, unwavering. He leaned back against the wall, one arm resting on his knee, the other hand drumming absentmindedly on the floor. He was careful, almost rigid, but there was a softness in the tilt of his shoulders, a crack in the mask he usually wore. Your chest tightened slightly- seeing him like this, so unguarded, made your own defenses falter just a little. Only you drank this time.

“I never made someone suffer just so I could feel better.” The words slipped out before you even realized, and you had no idea where the hell they had come from. The odd thing was how quickly the whole vibe of the night had shifted. What had started as a stupid game, a little reckless fun, now felt heavier, almost suffocating. Your mind wandered unbidden to that conversation with Rae, to the story she had told you about Rex and Eve. The memory hit like a punch, sharp and uncomfortable, and you instantly regretted even asking the question.

Rex remained indecipherable, his expression unreadable. He took another slow sip from the bottle, as if he hadn’t expected you to go there. Then he responded, asking the unimaginable, the one thought you hadn’t dared put into words: “I never killed an innocent man.”

Your chest froze. Your eyes locked on him, wide and unblinking. That voice, that tone- it carried the same burden you had been trying to shove into the deepest corner of your mind. The room seemed to shrink around you, the walls bending slightly as if to press the truth into the space between you.

He was drunk, you realized, his movements visibly off, the way his eyes lingered on the bottle betraying the alcohol coursing through him. You remembered how he had polished off more than you ever dared in one sitting, and how the hidden fridge had been emptied earlier that evening- probably another one of his stunts.

On the other hand, you were drunk too. Your head felt heavy, a dull, swaying weight that made it hard to focus on anything solid. The walls around you seemed to bend and curve, slumping in and out as if the room itself was tipsy, mocking your unsteady balance. Each blink made the edges of the world blur, and your stomach churned in tandem with the spinning floor.

You knew you should lie, keep your sip to yourself, dodge the question like you always had- but your fingers wrapped around the bottle almost by instinct. The alcohol burned going down, warm and heavy, and for a moment, the swirling room made you feel both smaller and larger at the same time, like you were dissolving into the shadows.

So, despite every warning in your head, you drank, forcing the truth into your body even as your mind screamed to stop. The room tilted more, your senses scrambled, and the moment stretched out impossibly long, every heartbeat thudding against the silence between you and Rex.

You had expected the night to tip in some stupid, predictable way- maybe a reckless kiss, a regretful move that would leave your heart twisting for days. Instead, the alcohol and the haze of the room pushed the words out before you could stop them. You found yourself confessing your biggest secret, the one you’d buried so deep it had almost become part of you.

Rex didn’t flinch, didn’t mock, didn’t look at you like you’d just shattered the air around you. He just grabbed the bottle, his usual careless grin vanished, and tipped it back, draining the rest in one long swallow.

A hot tear slid down your cheek, stinging as it traced your jaw. “You should leave,” you whispered, your voice barely audible even to yourself.

Rex didn’t argue. He simply nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing for the briefest moment, and slipped out the door. The soft click of the latch behind him echoed like a final punctuation mark.

Alone, the quiet of the room pressed in on you, magnifying every heartbeat, every shaky breath. Your eyes were bloodshot, and the tears wouldn’t stop. The alcohol had loosened more than your inhibitions- it had unearthed the truth you had carried for too long. You buried your face in your hands, letting the sobs come freely.

For the first time in months, you allowed yourself to fully feel it: the guilt, the fear, the loneliness, the regret, and the strange relief of confession.

It was just another Friday, training finished, water still cooling on your skin from a rushed shower, when you finally made a decision. You were done waiting around, done sitting back while the others got called out for missions while you stayed behind. This time, you’d ask to be put on one. Jump the gun before anyone else was even required. Maybe if you threw yourself into the field, the nagging sense of uselessness gnawing at you would finally shut up.

Sitting on the edge of your bed damp hair dripping onto the collar of your t-shirt, it almost felt like summoning a ghost. Normally, it was always Cecil or Donald who contacted you through your earpiece, never the other way around. Would it even work the same way? Did they even bother listening unless they were the ones who pressed the button first?

Only one way to find out.

You cleared your throat, suddenly hyper-aware of how empty the room was, how every word you said felt like it bounced back at you twice as loud. “Hey… Cecil? Or Donald? You there?”

Nothing. Just the faint hum of the air vents and the soft drip of water rolling down your temple.

You winced, feeling your lips a bit dry. “Over,” you added lamely, as if that would somehow make it official. And instantly regretted it. God, you sounded like an idiot.

You waited another moment, straining for even the faintest crackle of static that might suggest someone was listening. Still nothing. You rubbed at your temple, a bit embarrassed.

“Yes, is everything alright?” echoed Donald’s calm, measured voice in your earpiece.

You swallowed, aware of how weird this felt, “Actually, I wanted to ask you for something.”

Silence. You pictured Donald exchanging a quick look with Cecil on the other end. For a second, you almost bailed, almost said never mind. But instead, you pushed through. “I really want to get out there. On the field, I mean. Any mission’s fine. I just… I just need to hit some bad guys.” Your voice was steady, but your leg bounced up and down against the edge of the bed, betraying how desperate you were.

“Well, I’m sorry, kid, but there aren’t any missions right now.” This time it was Cecil’s voice, sharp and clipped.

You frowned; you didn’t buy that. Something was always happening somewhere. There had to be. “Come on, Cecil,” you pressed, sitting forward now, elbows on your knees. “Please. I really need this. It doesn’t matter how small it is. Just give me something.”

Another pause, the kind that made you feel like they were debating whether you were worth the hassle. Then Donald came back: “There is a small situation happening on Liberty Boulevard, in Salt Lake City. Nothing major- we were going to let Fight Force take care of it, but-”

You didn’t even let him finish. “I’ll do it. Please. It’s close by, I can teleport there.”

On the other end, Cecil sighed, long and heavy, “Fine by me. This guy calls himself the Elephant. He’s currently burglarizing a grocery store. You’ll be able to spot him easily enough.”

A burglar. A grocery store. A guy named Elephant. Not exactly end-of-the-world material, but your pulse quickened anyway. It didn’t matter what it was- you finally had a target.

You quickly geared up, ignoring the clammy dampness still clinging to your suit from training. You strapped your boots, tugged your fingerless gloves into place, and finally pulled the mask over your eyes, sealing yourself into the role you were so desperate to prove you belonged in.

Your pulse spiked as the familiar hum built in your chest, spreading outward until it tingled in your fingertips. Then blue flashes of light burst around you, swallowing your form. In the blink of an eye, the quiet of your bedroom vanished, and the hot summer air of Liberty Boulevard slammed into you.

You stumbled forward half a step, steadying yourself as the world sharpened back into focus. The street was busy; everyone seemed to have somewhere urgent to go to. Distant sirens wailed faintly, a dog barked somewhere blocks away, and the buzz of neon signs hummed above corner stores.

Your eyes darted up and down the boulevard, searching for anything out of place. And then you caught it- not just with your eyes, but your ears. Panicked voices carried from a block away, cries for help that sent adrenaline surging through your veins.

You didn’t hesitate. With a crackle of blue light, you teleported straight to the source.

The sight that greeted you almost made you blink twice just to make sure you hadn’t jumped into some bizarre cartoon. Right there, in front of a smashed-up grocery store, stood a hulking figure with gray, leathery skin, tusks gleaming under the fluorescent lights. A humanoid elephant.

“All you meat-eaters are murderers!” he bellowed, his trunk swinging as he hauled fistfuls of packaged steaks and ribs out of a fridge and into a sack that already looked ready to burst. “You wouldn’t eat your pet cat, so how’s a pig or cow any different?!”

You froze for a beat, caught between disbelief and secondhand embarrassment. What the actual fuck am I looking at?

Donald had promised you this was “nothing big.” And technically, he hadn’t lied- this wasn’t world-ending, apocalypse-grade villainy. But he also hadn’t mentioned you’d be squaring off with some kind of vegan bouffon on steroids.

For half a second, you almost felt bad for the guy; his ranting had the cadence of someone who honestly believed they were making a difference. Still, his “activism” included terrifying civilians and trashing a store, which meant he was your problem now.

You straightened your shoulders, trying hiding your smirk. Job or not, this was going to be interesting.

“Hey!” you shouted, your voice cutting through the chaos. Heads turned- terrified civilians, the frantic store clerk, and, most importantly, the elephant-man himself. “Let’s calm down for a sec- ”

“NO!” he roared as his trunk curled dramatically, jabbing a finger at you. “People should pay for this! If my diet is plant-based, why can’t yours be the same?!”

You crossed your arms, raising your brows in pure amusement. Honestly, this guy sounded less like a criminal and more like a walking PETA pamphlet. Still, you let him rant for a few moments, watching him wave around stolen packs of ground beef. Then, with a crack of blue light, you vanished from where you stood and reappeared directly in front of him. His eyes barely had time to widen before your fist connected squarely with his face.

You hissed under your breath, shaking your hand out. “Shit, this guy’s skin is thick,” you muttered, flexing your sore knuckles.

But pain aside, a flicker of satisfaction bloomed in your chest. Even though this fight wasn’t anywhere near the level of Immortal’s brutal training sessions, it still counted. You were helping people. You were useful. And for the first time in days, it felt like you weren’t drowning under the weight of your own failures. Instead, you were reconnecting with the part of yourself that actually believed you belonged here. For a fleeting instant, you forgot all about the disaster in the Pentagon last week- the frustration, the blood dripping from your nose, the humiliation of not being able to make your powers work. Right now, none of that mattered.

The Elephant staggered back, snorting angrily, but you were already squaring up again, a grin tugging at your lips.

Too wrapped up in the moment, you didn’t notice the young reporter who’d arrived at the edge of the street, microphone in hand. Her cameraman panned to capture every second, broadcasting your absurd standoff with the so-called “The Elephant” live to Salt Lake City- and probably a few thousand people glued to their TVs.

With one final blow, you sent him crashing to the ground with a heavy thud that rattled the shelves. You let out a sharp breath, shaking the sting from your knuckles before touching your earpiece. “He’s down. You can send someone to pick him up,” you reported to the GDA.

A quick glance around told you the civilians were safe- scared, but unharmed. Good. Your job here was done. You were already preparing to teleport out when, out of nowhere, a microphone was shoved right in front of your face.

“We are here with the newest addition to our beloved Guardians Of The Globe!” a blonde reporter chirped in her best on-camera voice, her smile dazzling as she gestured toward you. “Ladies and gentlemen, meet our hero of the day!”

You froze.

The camera, the sudden wave of attention- it felt like one of those nightmares where you suddenly realized you were standing butt-naked in front of a crowd. The Guardians never got ambushed by the press like this, especially not after something so small. Why the hell now?

“Tell us, who should we thank for saving our fates from the hands of the Elephant?” the reporter continued, locking eyes with you like she was hungry for a soundbite.

You blinked. Saving their fates? That was a stretch if you’d ever heard one. He’d been robbing a grocery store, not plotting world domination. Still, your brain scrambled for words.

“Uh… sorry, what?” you stalled, praying she’d repeat the question or, better yet, lose interest.

“Your name, sweetheart,” she pressed, smile unwavering. “The world wants to know who you are.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You’d already decided to never use your real name (like you previously wanted) after the mask fiasco with the Lizard League, but now, put on the spot, your mind went utterly blank. Alias? Anything? Nothing came up.

And then- salvation in the dumbest form possible. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a flickering neon sign, the silhouette of a woman glowing in garish pink and blue from a bar across the street. Before you could stop yourself, the word slipped out.

“Uhm… Neon.”

“Sorry, darling, did you say Neo?”

Of course. Too bad that one was already taken by a much cooler guy. Heat rose in your cheeks as you corrected, louder this time.

“Neon,” you repeated, every syllable making you cringe harder. You were already regretting it, but it was too late now.

The reporter lit up as if you’d just handed her gold. She spun toward the camera with a dazzling smile. “There you have it, folks- Neon, the shining new hero protecting our streets!”

The cameraman zoomed in on your face. You could practically hear the collective cringe of the universe as your new alias got broadcasted live.

You stood there flabbergasted, caught between bolting on the spot or doubling down. All you could do was nod stiffly.

You teleported straight to your room, peeled off your suit, and threw on some casual clothes, all the while mentally scolding yourself for not coming up with something better. At the same time, you kept trying to convince yourself the alias wasn’t that bad. Technically, your abilities did come with flashing blue light- neon in a nutshell. Still, the word made you gag every time it bounced around your head. You sighed so deeply it almost rattled your chest.

Your stomach growled, reminding you how thoroughly you’d skipped lunch. Resigned, you opened the door and wandered toward the kitchen; but before you could even set foot inside, a voice like nails on a chalkboard greeted you from the common area.

“Good job today, Neon,” Rex drawled, dragging out the name with exaggerated emphasis. He sat slouched in an armchair, legs spread wide, boots kicked up on the coffee table.  His T-shirt, a white Garfield print splattered with stains, read: “I’m not always right, but I’m never wrong.” The TV blared the very same news clip you’d just fled from.

“What kind of fuck-ass name is that, anyway?” he added, grinning.

You clenched your jaw, walking towards him. “A good one,” you pressed, your tone sharp, the annoyance seeping through despite your best effort. Sure, you knew the name was far from perfect- but damned if you were going to admit that to him.

“Good one?” Rex barked out a laugh, tilting his head back against the chair. “Yeah, if by good you mean ‘sounds like some knockoff hooker name’,”

“Shut the fuck up, Rex. Seriously,” you said, crossing your arms.  “Do you even come with that option? ‘Cause I swear, I’m not in the mood for your crap right now,” You stood directly in front of him, forcing him to tilt his head up to meet your glare- a rare shift, given your height difference.

“Ugh, you’re never in the mood for anything. Starting to take it personally,” he groaned, lacing his fingers behind his head.

You arched a brow, irritation prickling through your hunger.  “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Your stomach growled, loud enough for him to hear, but you ignored it, refusing to give him any satisfaction.

Rex smirked, one corner of his mouth quirking upward. “Just saying, you treat me like some kinda…stray dog or whatever- swat me away every time I try to be friendly,”

“Friendly?” You barked out a laugh, sharp and disbelieving. “That’s what you call this? Throwing shit at me every chance you get?”

Rex only grinned wider, leaning back even further in his chair, his shirt stretching across his chest as Garfield winked at you. “Hey, don’t hate the player. Some people would kill for my attention, y’know.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt, but your cheeks betrayed you- warming just enough for you to pray the dim light hid it. Damn him. Damn that stupid face that made it impossible not to look twice, even when you wanted to smack him.

“Yeah, well, I’m not ‘some people,’” you muttered, snatching the remote right out of his hand and clicking the TV off in one smooth motion. His smile faltered.

“Hey!” Rex sat up straighter, mock-offended. “I was watching that.”

“Correction,” you said, tossing the remote onto the couch, out of his reach. “You were watching me be humiliated on live tv.”

“Yeah, you really should have stuck with Neo, at least everyone knows who that is,” he shot back, that smugness slipping right back in place.

You groaned, throwing your head back, then turned on your heel and stalked toward the kitchen. “I’m starving. You want something to eat, or are you too busy shitting yourself?”

For a second, you thought that’d be the end of it- that he’d stay planted in his chair and let you cool off. But then his boots thudded against the floor as he got up, following after you like an annoying shadow.

“Wait, you’re actually inviting me to lunch? Careful, Neon, people might start thinking you like me.”

Your stomach dropped. It was just some overused joke, meant to be brushed off, but the words tangled somewhere deeper. You forced a scoff, busying yourself with opening the fridge so he couldn’t see the flicker in your eyes. “Relax. It’s not a date. It’s leftovers,” you said flatly.

Still, as Rex leaned casually against the doorway, arms folded, watching you with that infuriating smirk, you couldn’t help the stupid, traitorous flutter in your chest.

“You like pasta?” you asked, bending into the fridge and rummaging past containers, scanning each shelf for something that resembled a decent snack.

“Do I look like the type to be picky about food?” Rex replied, already dragging a chair across the floor with the loudest scrape possible before flopping down into it.

You didn’t even bother reheating the spaghetti- Rex was lucky you were sharing at all. Sliding it across the counter with a little more force than necessary, you grabbed another bowl for yourself. You scooped maybe a third of the pasta onto your plate, then shoved the rest in front of him without ceremony.

He frowned down at it, brows knitting together. “What, I don’t get the right to a clean bowl?”

You gave him a lopsided smile, handing him a fork. “If you’re not picky, then you can eat it straight out of that one. Saves the trouble of washing extra dishes.”

Rex twirled the fork in his hand, as he fired back: “Wow. You’re a real hostess. Some five-star shit right here,” he said as he took a big bite. “The assholes we throw in jail get better services,” he teased.

“Maybe that’s what you deserve,” you said lightly, though your eyes lingered on him a little longer than you wanted them to. You quickly busied yourself stabbing at your own food, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

He chewed noisily, mouth half-full, before pointing his fork at you. “You know, you’re meaner than you look.”

Despite yourself, you caught the corner of your mouth twitching.

Just as you were about to answer, the kitchen door swung open. Bulletproof, or Zandale, stepped in, dressed in sweats, towel slung around his neck. His shirt clung to him with that post-workout sheen, muscles practically screaming I live at the gym. It was one of the rare occasions you spotted his unmasked face. He opened the fridge, poked his head inside, and groaned.

“Man, every time I come in late, there’s nothing but junk left,” he muttered, slamming the fridge door shut. His eyes cut straight to you and Rex, locked on the pasta bowls. “Seriously? That shit is what you’re putting in your bodies?”

Rex didn’t even bother looking up. “Relax, Mr. Arnold Schwarzenegger. It’s pasta, not poison.” He shoveled another forkful into his mouth, chewing with his mouth open just to prove a point.

Bulletproof leaned against the counter, arms crossed, glaring like a disappointed parent. “This is why you gas out halfway through training,” Bulletproof added, voice sharp. “You treat your body like a dumpster, then wonder why you can’t keep up.”

You froze mid-bite, caught in the crossfire. Rex scoffed, finally looking up. “Oh, fuck you. You think I’m dragging ass ‘cause I had pasta once? Maybe you’re just pissed no one left you your damn oatmeal stash. Seriously dude, you eat like you’re some fucking horse,”

You chocked a bit. Bulletproof’s jaw tightened. “Yeah, well, at least I ain’t got no beer belly,”

That seemed to strike a nerve. You sighed, dragging your bowl closer like a shield. The last thing you wanted was to referee this testosterone contest.

Rex slammed his fork down, half rising from his chair. “Beer belly? Do I look like I got a fucking beer belly to you?” He slapped his stomach, lifting his shirt high enough to show his abs.

What the hell is wrong with these guys?

Bulletproof didn’t flinch. He just tilted his head, unimpressed. “Give it a few years; keep eating like a frat boy and you’ll be huffing and puffing before you hit thirty. Hell, you already do.”

Rex barked out a laugh, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Uhm, maybe you’re not aware but muscles don’t mean shit if you’ve got a stick up your ass,”

“Better a stick up my ass than clogged arteries,” Bulletproof fired back, stepping closer, his shadow stretching across the floor. “I actually give a damn about longevity. Can you even spell that, Rex?”

“Oh, big word, nice,” Rex mocked, clapping slowly. “You get that off your motivational water bottle? You sound like one of those YouTube bros selling courses on ‘unlocking your inner beast’,”

You pressed your fork against your lips, eyes darting between them like you were stuck ringside at a cockfight nobody had asked you to attend. Rex was leaning forward in his chair now, tossing barbs with that lazy smirk plastered across his face, while Bulletproof looked like he was about to pop a vein in his neck.

Your bowl had been empty for a while, scraped clean down to the last noodle, but you’d stayed put out of pure entertainment value. You set your fork down with deliberate care, and in the blink of an eye, you were gone. One flash, and you were back in your room, probably without either of them even realizing you’d left. Hell, they were so wrapped up in slinging insults back and forth that you were pretty sure you could’ve started juggling knives in the middle of the kitchen and neither would’ve noticed.

It stirred up a restlessness you thought you’d outgrown, a tug in your chest that wasn’t welcome. You weren’t sure if it was curiosity, attraction, or naivety. So you cut it off the only way you knew how: you stopped giving yourself the chance.

It wasn’t like you avoided him completely; far from it, actually. You ended up teamed together quite often during missions, and more often than not, the two of you coordinated surprisingly well. You interacted every day, and being neighbors only added to the number of encounters. The only thing you consciously limited were the late-night, after-hours AA meetings. No more 2 AM beers. No more kitchens. No more balconies.

You rolled out of bed at 6 AM on your own this time, instead of sleeping until Immortal came barging on your door like he usually did. Somehow, it felt worse this way. Each morning you told yourself you’d eventually make peace with waking up at such an outrageous hour- but that peace never came. Every damn day, the clock on your nightstand felt like it was mocking you, and the disappointment hit even harder than the day before. You didn’t even bother pulling the blinds aside anymore. There was no point- you had memorized every inch of that room by now. The darkness wasn’t an obstacle anymore; your body moved on autopilot as you slipped into the suit, tugging the zipper all the way up without an ounce of hesitation. Your mask was now permanently placed inside your pocket in case any emergency came up; you didn’t want to make the same mistake of going into battle without it, like you had a few weeks back.

A second later, you teleported straight into the bathroom. You twisted the faucet, letting icy water splash over your face in a desperate attempt to shock yourself fully awake. Droplets clung to your eyelashes, some dripping down to your neck, wetting the collar of your costume. You just stared at your reflection, trying to summon the will to confront yet another day of punches to the face- both metaphorically and literally.

That’s when Cecil’s voice cracked through your earpiece, loud and sudden, making you flinch so hard you almost lose your balance.

“Morning, kid. Today, you don’t train with the team- you train with us. I’ll come pick you up in fifteen, suit up.” Pretty clear instructions, you thought, but it didn’t stop the knot from tightening in your stomach. Whatever this was, it wasn’t going to be easy.

******

After Cecil teleported the two of you into the Pentagon with that little handheld device of his, you found yourself once again in the same sterile room where everything had first begun. The chair wasn’t exactly comfortable, but you’d made it work: one leg was propped up so your elbow could rest lazily against it, while the other was tucked beneath you, folded in the way you always sat when you were trying to seem casual but couldn’t quite hide your nerves. Across from you, Cecil and Donald sat side by side, their postures far more formal, the table between you forming a silent line that split the room in two.

It was uncanny how familiar it felt- exactly like that first day the GDA had brought you in, all tense air and unreadable faces. Only now, just a month later, everything was different. You were different. Funny how fast things could shift.

“So, what exactly are we doing today?” you asked, breaking the radio silence.

Cecil folded his hands on the table, calm as always, while Donald’s expression didn’t shift an inch. “We’re going to test your time manipulation abilities,” Cecil said evenly. “We think you’re ready to give it a go.”

For a moment, your heart just stopped. The words sank in like ice water down your spine. Of course, you’d known this day would come eventually; you couldn’t keep running from it forever. If you ever wanted to make real progress, you had to face this part of yourself head-on. Still, that didn’t make it any easier.

It was the kind of ability you wished you could just wake up already knowing how to use, skip past the terrifying trial-and-error phase and arrive at control. But that wasn’t how this worked. And there was another catch, the biggest one of all- time travel was one of the most unpredictable forces you could even imagine. If you did something wrong, it wasn’t just some silly mistake you’d forget about in a couple of minutes; here, failure meant tearing yourself out of the present, losing your grip entirely and being hurled into another moment in history. No guarantee of return. No lifeline waiting to pull you back.

And the thought of that- of leaving this place, this fragile, imperfect life you’d somehow managed to start building- hit you harder than you expected. It made your stomach churn. For the first time, you had something resembling stability. A roof over your head. People who acknowledged your existence. Maybe even the beginnings of… connections. And the idea of that being ripped away, of waking up in some timeline where none of it mattered, where none of them even knew you, made you nauseous.

Donald’s voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, calm but steady, as if he knew you needed grounding. “We’re going to try and experiment with some other things… other possible abilities of yours. We know time traveling isn’t something you can easily exercise.”

His words landed like a small reprieve, soothing enough to breathe again, even if only for a second.

Cecil leaned forward, eyes sharp behind his glasses. “For starters, stopping, slowing, and reversing time are at the top of the list.”

The way he said it made it sound simple. Like they were talking about lifting weights or running laps. But nothing about this felt simple to you. Your fingers drummed nervously against your thigh, your body buzzing with an energy you couldn’t decide was anticipation or dread.

You hated this kind of uncertainty. The crushing, suffocating kind that came with things you couldn’t control, with risks too big to gamble on. It wasn’t thrilling; it was paralyzing. The opposite of the fun kind of uncertainty- the kind that kept you restless for reasons you’d never admit out loud.

That other kind… that was different. That was when you couldn’t read someone like an open book from day one. When every word, every pause, every glance carried just enough weight to keep you guessing. It was the kind of uncertainty that made you long for one more moment beside them, if only to peel back one more layer and maybe- just maybe- find out what lay beneath the shell.

And even though you’d never say it, even to yourself, you knew exactly who your mind drifted to when you thought about that: the infuriating, flawed, impossible Rex. The one person on your team you were painfully aware you shouldn’t let yourself get too close to.

Cecil and Donald led you down a quiet corridor until you reached another chamber. The space felt clinical, stripped of personality: white-painted walls with almost no furniture- just a single table  and a chair that stood in the center, with a few strange props: a pendulum-like metronome clicking steadily, a digital clock blinking in sterile blue, and an old-fashioned watch with a second hand ticking relentlessly forward.

Before you could ask questions, Donald gestured for you to sit. He pulled out a set of straps and sensors, carefully fixing them around your chest, your wrists, even your temples, the adhesive patches clammy against your skin. A thin wire hummed faintly as the machine they were hooked to came alive, tracking your heartbeat, your breathing, maybe even the slightest change in your system. In front of you loomed a large window, but its surface reflected nothing back. You quickly realized it was one-way glass; whoever sat on the other side could see you clearly, while you were left staring at your own faint reflection.

“You don’t need to worry. These are only to help us measure if there’s any disruption in the time stream,” said Donald, giving you a tight smile.

“I want you to focus,” Cecil calmly instructed. “Start with the second hand on the watch. Don’t look away. Don’t try too hard. Just… let it pull you in. And then, see if you can will it to stop.”

Then, the two men stepped out of the room, leaving you only surrounded by your thoughts. They were probably sitting on the other side, watching you closely from the window. The metronome clicked on, louder somehow now that you were trapped in the stillness of the room. The sound was oddly comforting, helping you focus on your actual job. Or at least that was your first impression of it. You tried to steady your breathing, but the sensors betrayed you- your heart was already racing. You inhaled, feeling ready to give it a try.

You fixed your eyes on the hand of the watch, willing it to freeze in place. You visualized it halting mid-tick, hanging suspended in the air. How different could it really be from teleporting? You’d already broken every law of physics just by existing, tearing yourself from one place and dropping into another one. In theory, stopping time should’ve been just as impossible as folding space- yet somehow, teleportation had come naturally to you, as if your body knew the trick long before your mind did. So why the hell did this feel so much harder?

Nothing changed. The hand kept moving forward in steady, mocking beats, each tick hammering into your skull. Seconds slipped away mercilessly, and with every one that passed, a little more of your hope bled out. Your gaze snapped to the digital clock, desperate for a different result. You imagined the glowing numbers freezing, glitching, anything. But the digits marched on with cold precision, indifferent to your effort.

A chill spread through your body as frustration crept in, your palms clammy and slick. You dug your nails into your skin, furious- not just because you couldn’t do it, but because you knew others were watching you fail. You weren’t only letting yourself down; you were letting the GDA down too. That thought burned hotter than any physical pain.

Cecil must have noticed your harsh reactions, because his voice suddenly blared through a hidden speaker in the wall:

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, kid. Try something else- we’re not rushing anywhere.”

You exhaled sharply, trying to unclench your fists. Fine. If willing the clock hand to stop wasn’t working, then maybe you had to trick yourself into thinking backwards. You shifted your focus, staring at the digital display again. You tried to reverse it in your mind, to imagine the numbers running backward, seconds unspooling into minutes.

Nothing.

You grit your teeth and tried once more, this time pushing in the opposite direction, begging the damn second hand to slow just a fraction, just a pause in its relentless crawl forward. Your chest tightened, sweat beading at your temples. You could almost feel something twitching at the edges of reality, like a ripple in the air or a hum you couldn’t quite catch-only for it to slip through your fingers the moment you reached for it.

“Come on…” you muttered under your breath, voice cracking with frustration.

Donald’s calm voice carried through the intercom. “We saw a fluctuation in the readings. Don’t push it too hard, just-”

“I am trying!” you snapped, louder than you intended, pulse hammering in your ears. Your nails dug into your palms, and you locked your eyes on the clock again, refusing to look away.

For a split instance, you noticed the hand faltered. Maybe it was your vision blurring from the strain, but you could’ve sworn it hesitated- like time itself was teasing you, dangling just out of reach. You leaned into it, desperate, trying every trick you could think of: counting backward, holding your breath, forcing images of stillness and silence into your mind.

Then the sharp, hot sting hit you. Blood dripped from your nose, smearing down your lip.

“Enough.” Cecil’s voice was firmer now. “That’s enough for today.”

You stumbled back from the table, clutching your face with the back of your hand. Your head throbbed, and your whole body buzzed with exhaustion. It felt like you’d been trapped in that white room for an eternity, though deep down you knew it couldn’t have been more than an hour. You didn’t even want to know how long this exercise had lasted- acknowledging the real number would only make it worse, confirming how quickly your body had started to give out.

Donald’s tone softened as he added, “This isn’t failure. The readings show movement, even if you couldn’t see it. Progress, however small, is still progress.”

You didn’t answer. You just sat there with your nose bleeding, heart racing, wishing the damn clocks would shut up already.

******

You spent the evening alone, deliberately avoiding the chatter of the others. For once, you didn’t even crave the half-comfort of Rex’s late-night fridge raids or Rae’s easy presence. Discouragement sat heavy on your chest, thick and suffocating, and no distraction seemed enough to clear your head. Your thoughts, traitorous as ever, slipped back to the one place they always wandered when you felt weakest: your parents.

At first, it was just the usual bittersweet recollection of them, their distant faces and the fractured kind of love you’d grown up with. But then, out of nowhere, the idea hit you like a sucker punch- a paradox you had never dared to examine until now.

If time worked the way you feared it did, then right now, this very moment, your parents weren’t the hardened survivors you remembered. They were toddlers. Small children somewhere in Chicago, probably playing in the streets or being carried on their parents’ shoulders, still years away from the day when Viltrumites turned their world into ash and forced them underground. By the time they were five, they would already be in bunkers, their childhood rewritten into drills, scarcity, and fear. In your memory, it was as though they had been born under Viltrumite rule, because they couldn’t remember what life had been like before it. And yet, despite living in the same region, they hadn’t met until their early twenties. Sheer luck- that’s all it had been.

But now… now you’d already broken that timeline simply by being here. You had tilted the scales without meaning to. If Invincible never fell to the Viltrumites in this version of events, the world would change for the better- humanity might be spared. The thought should have filled you with relief. Instead, it chilled you to the bone.

Because if things improved here, what did that mean for your parents? For the slim chance encounter that had brought them together in the first place? Would they still meet? Would they fall in love? Or would their lives veer in entirely different directions, strangers in a world that never needed to push them into the same bunker?

And if they never met… what the hell did that mean for you? Did you just… cease to exist?

The more you thought about it, the more your stomach turned. You’d survived apocalypses, fought monsters, even stood toe-to-toe with the idea of death before- but this, this unraveling of your very existence, left you feeling more fragile than ever.

And even if, by some miracle, they did meet again- if fate found a way to stitch their lives back together despite everything you’d already tampered with- then what? They would eventually have you. Only, that moment wasn’t centuries away. It was just around the corner, hanging close enough that you could practically reach out and brush against it.

Which meant there would be two of you. Two of the same person existing at the same time. The you standing here now, raised in the wreckage of a world that no longer existed, and the other you, the one who might be born into this timeline- clean slate, most probably different childhood, different scars, maybe no scars at all.

How the hell could that even work without the universe ripping itself apart? Would time smooth over the paradox, swallow one of you whole like you’d never been here to begin with? Or would you both just be accepted by some divine force to be present at the same time?

The thought made your head throb. It was too big, too impossible, and yet it clung to you like a curse. You’d been worried about losing yourself while time traveling, stranding yourself in some year with no way back. But maybe the cruelest joke of all was that, even standing perfectly still, you were already in danger of unraveling.

The next morning, you didn’t bother dragging yourself out of bed until after eleven. You’d already asked Cecil for the day off the night before, and- surprisingly- he hadn’t argued. In fact, he’d even passed the message down to Immortal, which spared you from having to deal with the old man’s lecture about discipline and responsibility. For once, you didn’t feel like being barked at.

You spent the next hour lingering around your room, half-dozing, half-staring at the ceiling, waiting patiently for the sound of the team finishing their morning training session. You had no intention of stepping into the gym while they were still at it- too many questions you weren’t in the mood to answer. What you did want was a distraction, something simple and stupid to get your mind off yesterday’s disaster.

So, you settled on the most reasonable outlet you could think of: shopping. Not exactly heroic, but cathartic in its own way. And with Rae offering to tag along- and those 150 bucks still burning a hole in your pocket- it felt like the perfect excuse to blow off steam without punching something.

Soon enough, you heard the familiar thud of doors slamming shut on either side of your room- your two neighbors, back from training. You rolled off the bed and padded into the hallway, hesitating for a second before knocking gently on Rae’s door.

“Hey, Rae, it’s me- you uhh… got a minute?”

The door swung open, and there she was, still in her training suit, her ponytail loose, stray hairs sticking to her forehead with sweat. She looked surprised to see you but not unhappy.

“Sure, what’s up? You okay? Haven’t seen you since dinner, like two days ago,”

“Umm, to be fair, not really,” you admitted, your gaze dropping to the floor. It felt strange, exposing that part of yourself- it wasn’t something you usually shared, especially not out loud. Vulnerability wasn’t exactly your strong suit. “I was thinking maybe you and I could go shopping later, if you want to. I could use a talk.”

Rae’s expression softened immediately, no hesitation in her answer. “Of course! Just gimme an hour, I’m all sweaty and disgusting right now. I really need a shower.” She grinned, her smile bright enough to cut through the fog in your head.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” you muttered, realizing you hadn’t given her a moment to breathe after sparring. You suddenly felt like you were barging in on her space, like a nuisance. “Take all the time you need.”

“An hour’s more than plenty. I’ll knock on your door when I’m done,” Rae’s tone was warm enough to make you believe her.

You slipped back into your room and shut the door behind you, leaning on it for a second before making your way to the wardrobe. You rummaged through the limited selection, tossing aside folded shirts and leggings until you found something that felt halfway acceptable for the city. During the past few weeks, you had gotten used to living almost exclusively in activewear- gear you’d requested from Cecil after tearing through your old clothes. Or after getting bored of them, but you kept that to yourself. Like clockwork, fresh sets always showed up the very same day, folded neatly on your bed as if by some invisible hand. A little unnerving, but you’d stopped questioning the logistics.

You eventually settled on a pair of navy tights and a loose, oversized black long-sleeved T-shirt that draped casually over your frame. It wasn’t exactly high fashion, but it did the job-comfortable enough to move in, neutral enough to blend in. Beneath it all, you kept your suit hidden, a quiet precaution you didn’t even have to think about anymore. If anything urgent came up, at least you’d be prepared.

When Rae knocked on your door, she was freshly showered and glowing, her ponytail redone, the faint scent of sweet floral shampoo trailing behind her. You followed her down the hall toward the garage- or “garage,” as you all liked to call it, even though it was basically a hangar crammed with GDA tech. It was a far cry from a regular parking spot, but the nickname stuck.

Rudy’s jet sat waiting; Rae claimed the driver’s seat since she had far more experience driving it, while you hopped into the sidecar. The hum of the engine rattled the floor, and soon enough you were airborne, cutting through the open sky.

The closer you got to Salt Lake City- the nearest city within reach- the lighter you felt. Just watching the clusters of buildings rise against the horizon gave you something new to latch onto, something normal. You hadn’t even made it downtown yet, and already your mood had lifted; it was easier to breathe with Rae sitting beside you, joking about how she was definitely the better pilot.

You flew low over an obscure, anonymous building; Rae set the jet down hard on the roof and slipped it into shadow like she’d done it a hundred times. The place was perfect for a quick drop- completely out of sight.

“Come on, we’ll take the fire exit. The mall’s right below,” Rae said, already moving.

You followed down the service stairs and spilled out onto the alley behind the mall. By the time you hit the sidewalk, the city noise folded around you and something in you loosened enough to finally start talking.

“So… yesterday morning Cecil dragged me into the Pentagon to, uh, try some new stuff. Like, explore my time-manipulation abilities,” you blurted, words tripping over themselves.

“And that’s… good, right?” Rae asked, tilting her head. She sounded genuinely puzzled- like she couldn’t tell if you were relieved or pissed.

“Yeah. Supposed to be.” You sighed, the city air tasting like coffee and pretzels. “Problem is, I totally suck at it.” You forced a laugh, soft and brittle. “Couldn’t do a damn thing. Didn’t stop time, didn’t slow it, didn’t reverse it. I felt like-” you shuffled for a joke that would cover the edge, “-a big piece of useless shit.”

Rae’s face went flat for a second, then she closed the gap between you and threw an arm around your shoulders as you both walked. Up close, she smelled like roses. “Oh, come on. You can’t bring yourself down like that, it’s not healthy.”

You wanted to believe her. You wanted to swallow that relief whole and let it sit warm in your chest. But the taste of failure still clung to your tongue- the metallic tang of a nosebleed, the way your hands had trembled under the sensors.

You tried to change the subject, but she didn’t let you. “You’re the opposite of useless. Just think of the dozens of people you’ve saved so far. Like, plural. Real civilians. That’s not nothing.”

She gave you a quick squeeze before pulling back. “And yeah, Cecil’s kind of a hard-ass, but whatever. None of us knew what the hell we were doing at first. You’re allowed to be crap at new things. You should’ve seen me when my powers kicked in, took me months to get the grasp of things.” Rae grinned, trying to pull one out of you too. “Your abilities are just…particularly trickier. Time manipulation’s, like, next-level. But you’ll get there. And when you do, you’re gonna make the rest of us look like total idiots.”

Rae really had a gift- effortlessly making you feel lighter without sugarcoating the reality. She didn’t drown you in cheesy pep talks or pretend everything was fine; she just cut straight through your storm of self-loathing with the kind of honesty that actually stuck. Somehow, without even trying, she made the weight on your chest a little easier to carry.

“Thanks, Rae,” you said, a little awkwardly, unsure what else to say. “You really… have a way of making people feel better.” You offered a genuine smile, the kind that came straight from the heart, silently hoping you’d someday be able to return the favor. Rae nudged you lightly with her hip, a teasing grin forming on her face.

There was still that gnawing thought in the back of your mind- the whole paradox situation. But that was yours to wrestle with, and you knew better than to expect anyone else to have the answers. Besides, if you even hinted at the possibility of ceasing to exist in a few years, Rae would probably freak out. So you kept your fears to yourself, forcing them into a corner of your mind, and tried- really tried- to just enjoy the moment.

The two of you bounced from shop to shop, laughing at each other as you tried on ridiculous outfits just for the fun of it, taking turns making sarcastic comments about what looked good- or horrendous- on each other. You finally picked out some “normal people” clothes, a welcome change from the endless activewear in your wardrobe, and even grabbed a few makeup products to experiment with. Rae treated herself to a flashy new pair of sneakers, clearly thrilled with them.

As you wandered past a record store, your eyes were drawn to a gorgeous old-school CD player displayed in the window. You lingered a bit, imagining what it would feel like to own something so classic, but reality hit when you checked your dwindling cash- only twenty bucks left. Enough, you figured, for a cup of coffee and a chocolate cookie at the nearby Starbucks, maybe a tiny reward for surviving a few hours of retail chaos.

As you both settled into a corner table, the warm hum of the café around you, a memory-equally traumatizing and hilarious- sneaked into your mind. You couldn’t resist sharing it.

“I just remembered something- and I don’t know how I didn’t tell you about it until now,” you said, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips.

Rae perked up instantly, leaning forward, her eyes sparkling. She already knew this was going to be good.

“Okay, so after my first training with you guys, I went to the showers. Two other people came in, but I didn’t think much of it… until a certain someone made an entrance,” you said, pausing just long enough for Rae to squirm in anticipation.

“Don’t keep me hanging! Who was it? Tell me!” Rae practically bounced in her seat, her grin wide.

“It was Rex,” you said, trying to suppress a laugh, “calling Kate to join him in the shower!”

Rae let out a dramatic gasp, covering her mouth with her hand. “No way! And then what happened?”

“She came out of the shower telling him to go shove it up his ass,” you replied, snickering at the memory. “And then—guess who also came out of the same shower?”

Rae’s eyes went wide, her voice barely a whisper, “WHO?”

“IMMORTAL!” you blurted, leaning back in your chair and laughing at the sheer absurdity of it. Rae groaned, slapping the table, half in disbelief, half in laughter. The two of you spent a few more minutes replaying the scene in your minds, each detail funnier than the last, drawing a string of quiet snickers from the other tables around you.

“So that’s why he always goes easy on her- they’re screwing each other!” Rae exclaimed, throwing her hands up like she’d just solved some grand conspiracy. You nearly choked on your cookie, laughing again at the ridiculousness of it all.

Once the wave of laughter had ebbed, you leaned back in your chair, catching your breath. “So, Rex and Kate used to have a thing or what?” you asked, your tone light but your curiosity genuine.

Rae scoffed, rolling her eyes with a smirk. “Rex has a thing with everyone. Seriously. But yeah, he did actually date someone properly once. Eve. Atom Eve. Redhead, pink suit, can create basically anything out of thin air. That must ring a bell.”

You blinked, recalling one of Donald’s many descriptions of past Guardians. “Oh… yeah. That does sound familiar.”

“They went out for, like, two… maybe three years? I’ve got no idea exactly,” Rae said with a shrug. “And then Invincible- Mark- showed up. Rex being the dumb,  jealous idiot that he is decided Eve was cheating on him with Mark. Which, by the way, she wasn’t. But Rex doesn’t exactly do the whole rational thought thing.”

You raised a brow, already sensing where this was going. “Oh no. What did he do?”

Rae leaned in across the table, lowering her voice like she was about to reveal state secrets. “He made the stupidest decision ever. He slept with Kate. Three of them, actually. And Eve? She walked in on the whole mess. In the shower. Can you imagine?”

You scrunched your nose in disgust. Poor girl. Yeah, not all relationships were meant to last a lifetime- especially not when you were still a teenager, still figuring out who you were. Breakups happened, people grew apart, sometimes for no reason at all. But if things between Rex and Eve weren’t all that great to begin with- if he was already that insecure, inventing fake scenarios in his head- then why the hell end it like that?

“Eve told me that he apologized using the old I love you please take me back thing but she wouldn’t have it,” Rae continued, swirling her straw idly in her Frappuccino.

“Yeah, of course, it’s only fair,” you added, nodding, fully agreeing with Eve’s decision. If anything, you thought she’d shown restraint.

“It’s like he knows he fucked up but doesn’t fully grasp the gravity of his actions,” Rae said, her voice halfway between annoyed and disappointed.

You leaned back in your chair, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Still, as much as you wanted to write him off as just a selfish jerk, you couldn’t help but recognize the pattern. You’d seen it before, maybe even lived it in your own way. Hurt someone before they can hurt you. It was cowardly, stupid, and cruel, but also… familiar.

Rae, however, wasn’t dwelling on it as she carried on: “Yeah, Rex is not really the type you can form a healthy romantic relationship with. But I really hope he’ll find the right person- the one he’ll actually want to change for.” She sighed, then cracked a lopsided smile.

Rae tilted her head at you, that sly little grin creeping onto her face. “You know,” she started, leaning forward across the table “you two sure team up a lot during missions and training,”

You raised a brow. “I don’t really see it like that… we just happen to be there at the same time so we just… work together, I guess,” you said, trying to brush it off. But you already knew Rae wouldn’t let it go that easily.

“Uh-huh,” Rae said, dragging the words out in a way that made you instantly suspicious.

Heat crept up your neck before you could stop it. Damn her for being so observant. “Okay, first of all, whatever you think you’re seeing- it’s not that. Second of all…” You hesitated, chewing on your words. “Fine. I may have… talked to him. A couple times. After midnight.”

Rae’s eyes practically popped out of her head. “WHAT?” Her voice went high enough that the woman at the table next to you gave her a sharp look. Rae ducked her head, whisper-shouting this time. “You’ve been having secret after-midnight hangouts with Rex Splode and you didn’t tell me?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “God, when you say it like that, it sounds like some forbidden affair. It’s not. We just… ran into each other a few times, had a beer, talked.”

“‘Just talked,’” Rae repeated, air-quoting you dramatically; she just smirked wider, clearly enjoying herself.

“Oh, shut up,” you said, flicking her arm playfully, though you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not like I’m gonna do it again.”

“And why’s that?”

“I don’t even know. I just… have a weird feeling about it,” you muttered.

“You’ve got enough time to figure it out,” Rae said reassuringly. “Just… don’t push him away completely. That won’t solve anything.” She had proven to be way more emotionally mature than you when it came to this kind of uncomfortable situation, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for her.

By the time you and Rae finally left the mall, the sun was already dipping low, painting Salt Lake City in amber light. Bags in hand, bellies full of overpriced coffee and sugar, the two of you strolled back toward the jet, still laughing over inside jokes from the day.

It wasn’t until you were buckled back in the sidecar, Rae starting up Rudy’s jet, that you realized how much lighter you felt. The crushing weight of yesterday’s failed attempts in the Pentagon hadn’t completely disappeared, but it had loosened its grip. Rae had a way of making things seem survivable, even the mess inside your head.

Still, once the laughter faded and the silence of the flight settled in, the questions came crawling back. About Rex- his stupid lopsided smile, the banter, the way you couldn’t decide whether to keep your distance or let yourself get pulled in closer. About time manipulation- whether you’d ever get the hang of it, or if it would always end in tears and disappointment. And about that damn paradox- the one thought you couldn’t share with anyone, not even Rae.

You pressed your forehead against the cool glass, watching the city lights blur beneath you. For now, it was enough that you felt a little steadier, a little less crushed by failure. But you knew yourself too well: the questions weren’t going anywhere.

They never did.

You knew, in your heart, that you were made up of every person you had ever crossed paths with- family, friends, enemies, strangers- and all of them had left fragments of themselves behind, embedded into you. Lately, those fragments had begun to resurface without warning. It was as if your mind had decided to read your life backwards, dredging up connections you thought were long buried.

You told yourself you had made peace with this place. This was your new home, after all. And truth be told, it was everything you had ever dreamt of having in your old world- safety, purpose, a proper bed, people who didn’t just look out for themselves. Here, you’d even managed to find friends. Real friends. Rae, most of all. Many late nights had caught the two of you discussing about everything and anything over a glass of wine.

You’d shared plenty with her already, things you hadn’t told anyone in years. You told her about your parents, how distant things had always been, how love felt more like an idea than something you’d actually been given. You confessed you knew you were a mistake- no one would have willingly chosen to have a baby in that dystopian world. Still, you gave them credit where it was due. They had taught you how to read and write, piecing letters and words together for you when schools had long since disappeared. For that alone, you were eternally grateful- because once you had the basics, you could teach yourself.

You scavenged old textbooks, their covers warped and their pages yellowed, some of them missing entire chapters. Still, you devoured every word by flashlight, tracing the equations with your finger until they finally made sense. Those books gave you more than knowledge- they gave you control. They gave you a way to measure the unmeasurable, to explain the impossible thing happening inside you when your powers came. In a place where no one could guide you, where your parents could only shrug and retreat into silence, it was those tattered pages that gave you some answers.

“It wasn’t their fault,” you said quietly, maybe more to yourself than to Rae. “They didn’t know how to be loving parents- and I can’t really blame them for that. They didn’t even want the job in the first place.”

As for your ex… you kept things vague, sticking to the kind of details that sounded almost ordinary. You told Rae about the late-night walks, the stolen drinks, the reckless jokes that made you laugh until your stomach hurt. How he was exciting, but sometimes a little too much- at the time, that was part of the appeal. Rae wrinkled her nose and teased you about your “bad taste in guys,” and you laughed along with her, letting the conversation drift before it could dig any deeper.

What you didn’t tell her- what you couldn’t tell her- was the truth. The darker parts. The one night that had changed everything, when he’d tricked you into being part of something you could never take back. The image of fire, the smell of smoke, the silence that followed… that stayed locked in the back of your mind, sealed away where it couldn’t slip out by accident. Rae was becoming one of the closest friends you’d ever had, maybe the closest- but even with her, some truths had to stay buried.

Rae felt as safe around you as you did in her presence. Trust went both ways, and over time she let you glimpse the cracks beneath her calm surface. During your late-night talks, she had opened up about her childhood- a story that left you both unsettled and furious on her behalf. Her powers had manifested when she was just a kid, and from that moment on, her parents stopped seeing her as their daughter and started treating her like a project. They had a single, clear objective: shape Rae into the perfect superhero. And in pursuit of that goal, all the ordinary joys of childhood were stripped away. No ice cream on hot summer days, no French fries after school, no candies sneaked under the covers at night. Instead, she was placed on an engineered diet, every calorie measured, every treat forbidden, her body and mind tuned like machines toward one purpose only.

You were glad that at least, by the time she reached her late teens, she finally got the chance to live the life she deserved. Joining the Guardians meant freedom in a way she had never known before- here she could reclaim a little of the fun she’d been robbed of, laugh without guilt, eat what she wanted without hearing a lecture, and stumble her way through the messy, imperfect transition into adulthood like any other young person. Surrounded by peers her own age, Rae finally had a chance to grow at her own pace, not as a weapon in training, but as herself.

You were starting to grow fond of the others as well. Amanda, for instance, wasn’t someone you felt especially close to yet, but you couldn’t help noticing the way she handled herself. She had this dry humor that slipped out in conversations, the kind that made you smirk even if you weren’t entirely sure you should be laughing.

What struck you most, though, was how she never let her curse define her completely. Sure, every now and then she’d let a bitter complaint slip about being trapped in a body that didn’t reflect her age, about being constrained by something so unfair and utterly outside her control. But even then, you couldn’t bring yourself to see her as weak. If anything, it only proved how strong she was- because anyone else in her situation would have broken apart, would have lost their mind entirely.

And despite looking like a child in her human form, Amanda still commanded respect. Not because of intimidation, not because of appearances, but because of sheer force of personality. People listened when she spoke, not out of obligation but because she was sharp, grounded, and always made a valid point.

Still, you blamed her at times for accepting all the weird, abnormal things Rudy did. You witnessed Amanda scolding him many times, but only when he was wrongdoing her- the most frequent offense was him trying to overprotect her, smothering her in ways that felt more controlling than caring.  But somehow, Amanda seemed unnervingly unbothered by all the other unethical, disturbing shit he pulled.

Rae had once recounted the day Robot first became Rudy. Apparently, nobody had known that the orange robot was merely a drone he controlled remotely, while his real, immobilized body was hidden somewhere else. You could only imagine the horror on their faces when a kid version of Rex came out of nowhere, claiming to be their friend.

You couldn’t picture what must have rushed through Rex’s mind in that very moment. Rae had told you a bit about his background- she herself didn’t know much, but one thing was sure: this guy’s childhood was messed up, a patchwork of neglect and overtraining. So, seeing his younger self must have brought back a torrent of traumatic memories.

Things had only gotten worse when Rudy had casually mentioned why he’d chosen Rex’s DNA- apparently, it was because Amanda had a little crush on him. You couldn’t exactly fault Rudy for wanting to escape that robotic shell and exist as a real human being. But the way he went about it… the sheer audacity… it was terrifying. This was a genius, yes, but a genius who had clearly abandoned any moral compass. He didn’t need to steal someone else’s DNA to become human; he could have designed something unique for himself. Instead, he orchestrated an entire identity theft just to manipulate someone else’s feelings- and currently, his plan was bearing fruit. It was diabolical; a calculated cruelty made by an egotistical person.

The small things had also started catching your attention more and more. The Guardians HQ was located in the mountains of Utah, where the air was pure and the sky permanently clear, untouched by the haze of cities or the heavy smoke you’d grown up under.  Stargazing had quietly become a habit of yours- you found yourself slipping out onto the balcony at night, tilting your head back to drink in the sight of endless constellations scattered across the sky. It was summer now, so the air was cool but bearable, the kind of chill that made your skin tingle without biting all the way through.   

Back in that dystopian future, the stars had been hidden more often than not. Therefore, you found it strange and comforting at the same time that, standing here with the mountains stretching around you, that it was the same moon you were staring at. The same pale, steady constant, quietly following you across timelines.

Deep down, you knew nostalgia would be the death of you someday. It clung to you like smoke, finding its way into every crack in your mind, and no matter how many times you tried to push it away, it always returned. In these moments, your mind and heart seemed to be at war. One part of you longed for solitude, for the cold comfort of being untouchable and unseen. The other part ached for the warmth of another person’s arms, the steadying weight of someone holding you tight enough that you didn’t have to think anymore. Each time, you chose solitude- the safer option.

When the reoccurring thoughts about your past threatened to drown you, you’d slip quietly out of bed and drift like a ghost through the kitchen and common area at two or three in the morning. Those hours didn’t belong to anyone in particular- too late for most, too early for the rest- and the silence felt like it could swallow you whole.

But you weren’t the only soul haunting the halls at that hour- more often than not, you’d catch Rex doing the exact same thing, his stupid grin dulled by exhaustion. At this point, you had lost count of the number of times you’d bumped into each other at the dumbest hours, both searching for the same thing: a hit of alcohol and a few minutes of relief. The two of you never really talked during those encounters; words felt unnecessary, almost intrusive. Instead, you’d exchange a simple nod, a quiet acknowledgment that you were both there for the same reason. Rex would swing open the fridge door without a word and pull out four beers- two for himself, two for you. No questions, no explanations. Neither of you bothered with corny lines like “The hell are you doing up right now?” because you already knew the answer. Sleep didn’t come easy, not for people like you.

Then, the two of you would walk quietly down to your bedrooms, beers in hand, careful not to disturb the others. But sometimes, Rex wouldn’t follow you back. You never asked what he did afterwards- maybe he just lingered in the lounge, enjoying his drink by himself or maybe he slipped out of the building altogether, chasing comfort somewhere else.  After all, Rudy’s jet was at his disposal, especially during the night, so Rex could disappear pretty much anywhere.

Occasionally, curiosity gnawed at you- you wanted to know what he did, where he went when he didn’t trail back to his room like you did. Maybe he was off to some late-night bar where the bartender already knew his order by heart. Or maybe there was someone else-one girl, or more- waiting for him. The images came uninvited, and you hated how easily they unsettled you. Either way, it wasn’t your place to wonder. That was the reminder you had to keep drilling into yourself: whatever Rex did when the world was asleep was none of your business.

Right now, you were stuck in yet another sleepless night. After following the familiar after-midnight routine of raiding the hidden fridge and grabbing two beers, you let yourself get lost in the endless black velvet of the night sky. Tonight seemed different. Quieter. You hadn’t run into anyone on the way here, and for a fleeting moment you thought maybe you’d get the night to yourself. Then, the familiar screeching of the sliding door pierced through the stillness of the night- you didn’t even need to turn your head to see who had just stepped in. The sound of his footsteps was etched into your memory- though part of you still hoped you were wrong.

“Thought you’d be out here,” you muttered. “Figures.” You leaned across the railing, propping your head up on your hand, elbow resting lightly against the cold metal.

“That’s just another way of saying you wanted me to be out here,” You rolled your eyes, thankful for the dark- it hid the smile tugging at your lips. Rex didn’t look at you, just clinked his bottle against yours. “Didn’t peg you for an insomniac,” he continued. Rex leaned against the balustrade in a way that mimicked your own posture, barely an arm’s length apart. You knew his stance had shifted- you could sense his stare was now lingering upon your face.

“I think I still have jet-lag from you know… time traveling and shit,” you mumbled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, fingers brushing lightly against your neck- anything to avoid the weight of his green eyes.

“Jet-lag huh? Cute excuse. Or maybe you just like being dramatic,” Judging from his tone, you knew he was just messing around. His fingers loosely drummed against the railing.

“Right, ‘cause you’ve got me all figured after three weeks,” your voice trailed as your thumb absently picked at the bottle’s label, peeling thin strips without really noticing.

“I hope not,” Rex casually said as he took another swing of the bottle. This definitely wasn’t the response you were expecting. “But I’ve got enough proof that you chew up bottles like a maniac when you don’t feel like talking,” There it was.

You scoffed. “Well, that’s rich coming from you,” now your body was fully turned towards him, as you used your empty hand to gesture to his almost empty beer. Rex was standing sideways to the railing, hip pressed against it, with his shoulder tilted slightly forward. His gaze rested on you. For the first time that night, his lips quirked into his signature smug grin- the one that made you question why you even bothered trying to stay serious. “Your poor liver didn’t sign up for this shit.”

It was as if the dark sky pulled a curtain over the two of you, its silence running from the edge of the balcony to the jagged line of the mountains beyond. The only sounds came from the gentle rustle of pine needles in the breeze and the muted hiss of beer as it slid down.

Rex playfully raised an eyebrow, before responding. “Toosh,”

It took you a second to process what on earth he meant. “You mean… touché?” Your jaw was clenched, to hold back a cackle.

“What?”

“It’s touché, not fucking toosh,” You couldn’t hold it any longer; your laughter exploded before you could stop it- sharp, loud, uncontrollable. Your stomach ached, your sides burned, and you slapped your knee- the full package.

During instants like this, you found yourself wishing you could twist your powers into something new- not to teleport, but to slow time itself. To hold on to these sweet moments just a little longer.  Maybe even to stretch out the company you weren’t supposed to enjoy as much as you did- you didn’t quite realize it yet, but part of you was starting to crave these nights more than you wanted to admit.

“Ooh you just fucked up,” Rex snarked, snatching your beer bottle and holding it just out of reach. He gave it a teasing jiggle over the balcony’s edge. Your giggles died down, knowing full well he was about to do something stupid. With a quick charge from his fingertips, the bottle exploded, fragments spraying everywhere, the remaining beer splashing across your hoodie and his T-shirt.

“You’re such a moron; the glass could’ve cut open our eyeballs!” you hissed, half-yelling, fully aware you were risking waking up the entire building.

“Oh, spare me that bullshit” he shot back, still smiling as he popped the cap off the last beer and tossed it your way.

“That’s your way of making up for almost blinding me?” you rhetorically asked, a cold gust of wind sending you goosebumps across your arms’ exposed skin.

“Got a better idea?” his intentions were absolutely indecipherable in this moment and you weren’t planning on decoding him. Not now, not ever.

“I’m going to bed,” you said as you stepped away from the railing, aiming for the sliding door. You knew you’d left him hanging- though he probably didn’t care- and added, “It’s late.”

“Mm,” he hummed, taking a slow sip from his bottle. “You always bail the second things get… inconvenient, huh?” Part of you wanted to stay, to see if he’d say something more, but you decided against it.

You paused, glancing over your shoulder, the corner of your mouth twitching. “Don’t get cocky. Night, Rex.” You knew it was already too late- he always had a way of winning these little verbal battles. Why drag it out when the outcome was obvious?

“Oh, that,” Rae said, walking over to the counter to see what you were pointing at. “It’s Caesar salad. Pretty damn good, actually- they usually drop one off, like, twice a week.”

You yanked opened probably every cabinet before stumbling across where the plates and bowls were.

“Rae, who’s they?” you questioned, simultaneously dumping a massive scoop of salad into a clean bowl.

“They’re from the GDA- basically Cecil’s guys.” Rae answered, as she was chewing loudly a protein bar. She had swapped into a plain, grey tracksuit, very similar to the black one you were currently wearing. “I don’t think I’ve actually seen them in real life tough- stuff just appears in our fridge, the energy drink stash never runs out, and our costumes get fixed in what, like, two, three hours tops.” She paused, frowning slightly like she was also trying to figure out how these ghost-people actually pulled it off.

Rudy inaudibly slipped into the kitchen, making you and Rae pause mid-sentence.

“Oh. I did not intend to intrude on your private conversation. My apologies. I’ll serve myself a portion of Caesar salad and then return to my workspace,” he said, his voice completely flat, like every word was pre-programmed.

“You don’t have to be sorry, it’s your kitchen too,” you could hardly contain your laughter- his over-the-top politeness was so absurd it almost didn’t feel real.

“I was already planning to consume my meal in the lab. There are several projects requiring my attention.” Rudy added before grabbing his plate and walking out as silently as he’d come.

The door had barely swung shut when you blurted, “Okay, I know I’m gonna sound like a jerk- Rudy seems great and all, but he creeps me the fuck out.” You lowered your voice. “I mean, come on- he literally stole Rex’s kid face. I don’t even know how old he is, but it’s messed up either way. He is trying to date a twenty-something woman trapped in a child’s body. That’s not love… it’s the kind of shit you see in horror movies.”

“No, he’s got serios issues. I mean, he’s stuck in this trance trying to get closer to Amanda- and everything else? Doesn’t even register for him.”

It was kind of ridiculous thinking about it- you were surrounded by a whole bunch of superheroes, people who possessed extraordinary abilities that defied the laws of physics, fought monsters, held up collapsing buildings, and threw themselves in front of danger on a daily basis, and still loving someone else was somehow harder to accomplish than any victorious mission. On one side you had the romantic entanglement between Rex, Kate and Immortal; on the other Rudy’s one-sided fixation with Amanda. Both were proof enough.

And yet… were you really any better? Given your own history- the messy attachment to your ex, the half-formed, never-quite-whole connection with your parents- you didn’t exactly have a clean record either. That was something you desperately wanted to change. Not many people got a second chance, and yet here you were: not just given one, but handed an entirely new life. It felt almost like being reborn, carrying the knowledge of past mistakes and knowing, at least in theory, what to do differently this time.

The problem was, you had built up serious trust issues, walls so high even you sometimes wondered what you were keeping in or keeping out. Still, somewhere in the quiet corners of your mind, you nurtured the hope that someday you’d meet the right people- the kind you could finally be sincere with, raw and unguarded. Maybe, just maybe, you had already crossed paths with them, right here in this building.

A few moments of comfortable silence passed as you both ate, the soft clinking of your cutlery filling the gaps. Neither of you felt the need to fill the air with pointless chatter, and for a little while, it was nice just to sit there together. Eventually, Rae spoke again.

“You kicked ass in training today, by the way!”

“Thanks, you did great, too!” you said lightheartedly, a bit surprised by her compliment. “I just hate that I botched the first round of that stupid exercise, and God- Rex!” You threw your hands up dramatically. “He’s such a dick. Dude’s got permanent sand stuck in places I don’t even wanna imagine.”

Rae snorted, and the two of you burst out laughing so hard you almost dropped the salad bowl.

“Who taught you to fight like that?” she wondered aloud, her eyes flickering around the kitchen to make sure you were indeed alone, before going on. “You really wrecked Kate’s fragile ego when you took her down.” Rae crumpled up the empty protein bar wrapper and tossed it into the trash, then hopped up onto the counter with a small bounce.

You snickered a bit at the remainder of your win. “Well… a boy did.” you stated, opening the fridge to grab some icy water.

“Boy as in boyfriend?” Rae teased as you were pouring her a glass of water as well.

You hesitated for a second, but it was too late to backtrack. Besides, there was no reason to lie to your only potential good friend. Honesty, at least partially, it is.

“Yep, an ex-boyfriend to be precise.” Rae leaned in, all ears, obviously not satisfied with your short, ambiguous answer. “We were together for about a year and a half- and he tricked me into doing a lot of dumb, regrettable stuff. Turns out having powers can get you into trouble too, when you trust the wrong people.” You forced a fake smile, pushing away certain flashbacks. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit a touchy subject,” Rae apologized, her tone softening as her posture shifted.

“No, no, it’s fine, really. It’s a closed case for me.” You explained still smiling, wanting to believe your own words but to no end. “We share a lot of great memories, and I learnt a lot during from that period. Especially that most guys are stupid and need to be educated by their girlfriends.”

Rae chuckled, and for a moment, the weight of your past felt lighter- even if the truth of it wasn’t fully out in the open.

“Soo, do you have a boyfriend? You and Rex seem buddy-buddy,” you quickly changed the subject, moving the unwanted spotlight off you. You really hoped the answer would be “no”, simply to avoid creating a weird love triangle between her, Rex and Kate- or maybe even a square, considering Immortal was in the mix.

Rae scoffed, fighting the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Hell no, we’re just friends. Rex’s a walking headache; I wouldn’t voluntarily deal with him more than I have to right now. Why, are you interested in him?” she said as she playfully nudged you.

“God, no! Plus, I’ve known him for two days!”

“You’ve also known me for just two days and look, we’re already sharing a bunch of stuff,”

“Well, yeah, because you’re nice! So far, he seems like a handful, and I’m being gentle.”

Rae laughed, agreeing with you. “Yeah, that’s putting it lightly. Trust me, I’ve known him longer- he’s… complicated. Not bad, just… unpredictable. Don’t get me wrong there, I’m not trying to excuse the shitty way he acts most of the time.” She paused for a bit, drinking the whole glass in one big sip.

“No, I get it. Unpredictable how?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“How do I put this… it’s just that you never know whether he’s gonna yell, swear, help, offer you a drink, make some dirty joke or try to sleep with you. But I think this place would get really boring if he wasn’t around.” Rae helped herself to another glass of water. “And, not gonna lie, he’s really good at fighting- you can’t deny that.”

“Yeah… he did pull off some impressive stuff in training.” you said carefully, reluctant to give him too much credit.

The whole scene between Rex and Kate kept replaying at the back of your mind, practically begging to spill everything to Rae. You had a thousand things to say, but you had to hold your tongue for now- he just had walked in.

“What are you two losers talking about?”  Rex said, while grabbing a milk carton out of the fridge and drinking straight out of it. He was wearing the same camo shorts from the other night, except now any form of shirt was completely missing.

“Stuff your mind couldn’t comprehend,” Rae taunted with a smirk.

“Oh, so in other words you were having a boy talk,” Rex said, gesturing between the two of you, suddenly intrigued by your conversation. “I hope I was on the hot guys list” he added as he wiggled his eyebrows like an idiot. A nice looking one tough.

“No, you were on the stupid guys list,” Rae fired back, without missing a beat. Both of them laughed, and you felt your lips twitch in a wide smile. You had plenty of comebacks ready in your head, but honestly, you didn’t know these two as well as they knew each other, and you didn’t want your jokes to come off as rude.

Your eyes drifted to Rex, and before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out: “Planning to wear a shirt with those pants?”

Rex froze for a split second, then his grin widened into that infuriating, shit-eating expression he wore so well. “Whoa, whoa, are you guys teaming up against me? What the fuck is this?” He took a slow, deliberate sip from the milk carton, like he was buying time to savor the moment. “And to answer your question… no. I’m not. I like taking full advantage of my male privilege, meaning I can walk around naked whenever I please,”

You blinked, momentarily speechless, your gaze slipping just a little lower than his face. To be fair, with his body on full display, it was practically impossible not to stare, at least for a second. He was lean and built, the kind of fit that looked earned with years of training, every muscle sharpened like it had been carved out of stone. Scars mapped across his skin, some faint and silvered over with time, others raw enough to look fresh, each one hinting at a fight you hadn’t been there to see.

And that was the frustrating part- it would have been so much easier to dislike him if he wasn’t so damn pretty. Not in the polished, model-type way either; he was too rough around the edges to fall into that category. Still, Rex possessed some weird, unexplainable magnetism that made your eyes automatically settle on him whenever he entered the room- it was borderline embarrassing. His stupid, permanent grin, the endless back-and-forth jokes, the way he carried himself- half of the time it was annoying, even unbearable at times. But in the short two days you’d known him, you’d seen tiny flashes of… something else underneath all the noise. And right now, with him unusually calm and not pissed at anything, you felt more unsettled than you wanted to admit.

Rae rolled her eyes at his response, a gesture Rex immediately picked on.

“What, jealous you two can’t do the same? You know I personally wouldn’t mind it.” He added, smirking. Rex was definitely not wasting any time, you thought- only a few hours ago he was launching a no-so-subtle invitation for Kate to join him in the shower, which only resulted in him getting humiliated by her and the team’s leader. And now he was shamelessly hitting on both you and Rae. Guess the whole gross womanizer thing was just baked into his DNA.

“Ew, Rex,” Rae said while sliding off the counter. She grabbed a towel from the sink, pretending to wipe her hands, before surprising him with a sharp, playful smack across the face. You and Rae both burst out laughing, covering your mouths to stifle it.

“Ouch! You know I’m kidding! Fuck, woman, you can hit hard,” he groaned, massaging his red cheek.

You laughed through your nose, sneaking a glance at Rae. By now, you were only toying with the leftover salad in your bowl, your attention directed towards the ongoing bickering. There was something satisfying about the way she didn’t let him get away with his antics.

Still, a hint of envy was growing inside your chest, for one main reason. Since you were witnessing more and more of their interactions, you felt a justified jealousy for never having experienced a friendship like theirs- one where they could constantly mess around, have fun, and equally trust each other. At least, that was the impression they gave off; you knew appearances could be deceiving, but with Rae and Rex, it didn’t look like any of it was an act.

And… maybe there was a tiny, almost imperceptible something else, though you weren’t exactly sure what it was. Rae had this effortless way of keeping up with him, teasing him, calling him out, and still laughing alongside him- while you just stood there, caught somewhere between wanting to join in and wanting to look away. You weren’t supposed to care, not really, but there it was: a flicker of… something. Something about him that made the air in room feel a little too thin and your chest a little too tight.

But you invariably knew a certain solution worked perfectly, dissolving these confusing internal conflicts in a matter of seconds: repressing your feelings, locking them away in a well-isolated chamber at the very back of your heart, and keeping them there for as long as you could. There were only two possible outcomes for this overused tactic of yours: those perplexing thoughts would just vanish on their own without crossing your mind ever again, or come rushing back like an arrow you yourself had launched, hitting at the most inconvenient, unexpected moment of your life. One thing was certain: it was better to play this lottery every time.

A sudden alarm snapped you out of your thoughts, saving you the energy of pushing them off yourself. A flurry of trotting footsteps hammered against the floor, echoing from the hallway, racing towards the common area. It was the sound of an incoming mission.

“Fuuuck, come on, not right now- I just took a shower!” Rex grumbled.

You didn’t pay attention to him- you teleported straight into your room, where your superhero suit was waiting, neatly hung on the doorknob by them at some unknown point. You slipped into it quickly, sliding the mask into your right pocket- a small, silent reminder of how much your life had changed overnight, and how little you really understood about this new world you’d been thrust into. A thought crossed your mind as you adjusted the collar: Man, I wish I knew how to stop time. You weren’t a fan of the endless rush, the way every moment seemed to push you forward without pause.

A blink later, the world shifted, and you stood in the common room, Kate flinching at your sudden arrival. You pretended not to notice but couldn’t help the corner of your mouth twitching. Above it all, Cecil’s face loomed on the big holographic screen, concentrated and firm as ever, his presence filling the room even from miles away.

“We have a situation at a bio research lab outside of Dallas- the Lizard League. I expect you all to deal with it the clean way; I want no casualties.”

You and the team were deployed together- even though you could teleport, Utah, where the Guardians HQ was located, and Dallas were on opposite sides of the country. You had never teleported such a long distance before, and judging by the effort it would probably take, pulling it off would have required every last ounce of your energy, leaving nothing in reserve. And not to mention the fear of even the slightest miscalculation sent a small shiver down your spine.

As you got there, the reality hit- this was really happening. The air felt heavier, charged with a sense of imminent danger. Suddenly, the thought of these villains- that resembled a disturbing symbiose between a human and a reptile- seeing your real face sent a jolt of panic through you. You didn’t want them to know you, recognize you in the future- it felt like exposing a part of yourself that was meant to stay hidden. You came to a halt, letting the other pass you as they were already jumping into action.

Frantically searching your pockets, your fingers brushed against the edges of your mask- relief washed over you as you slipped it on. Instantly, it felt like a barrier, a shield separating you from these monsters and the vulnerability they threatened. You silently thanked Art for creating a mask as well, feeling a surge of genuine gratitude toward him.

You leaped into motion, the familiar flashes of blue light enveloping around your figure. You blinked behind Iguana- Donald had provided you with brief information on their organization during your departure, including the members’ names- taking her completely by surprise. With a swift ankle-tap tackle, you sent her sprawling to the ground, the same move you had used that morning against Kate. Amanda- now Monster Girl- finished the job, landing a solid punch that left Iguana unconscious.

At the same time, Immortal had effectively dealt with Salamander, while Rex had easily taken down Supreme Lizard.

Out of the blue, Rex spoke, but his outraged voice was not coming from the Rex currently standing next to you. What the hell? Taking a closer look, you noticed most of the team was waiting in front of you completely baffled- and with Rex in the middle of them.

“Nope! Not this bullshit again- I’m not doing another me!” he was holding a defensive stance, ready to fight his doppelgänger. Glancing between the two of them, the Rex standing next to you was most certain not the real one- he looked too friendly. You slowly stepped aside, moving towards the rest of your colleagues.

The fake Rex smiled wholeheartedly, waving to you all- it was oddly unsettling.

“That me better not be you, Rudy.”

“It’s not.” Even Rudy seemed unnerved.

Rex paced heavily towards the other him, ready for an actual explanation.

“Who are you?” asked Immortal, as if it were not evident what the real Rex was waiting for.

“I call me the Shapesmith!” he exclaimed, morphing into another human before your eyes. Shapesmith didn’t get to finish his introduction, as Komodo Dragon sent him flying at least ten meters across.

“Guardians!” Immortal bellowed, signaling you it was time for fighting, as cliché as ever. And yet… you liked it that way.

“Things usually this weird around here?” you heard Bulletproof ask, his voice calm amidst the chaos.

“You have no idea,” Rae said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, even if you couldn’t see it clearly.

******

The mission was a success- you really hoped all the situation you and the team had to take care of would run so smoothly. Just as you were landing at the Guardians HQ, Cecil’s raspy voice echoed through your earpiece.

“Nicely done today, kid.”

Your heartbeat accelerated- two people, him and Rae, had congratulated you on your performances, the first ones to do so since the day you got your powers- and that alone was enough to make you feel… lighter, almost giddy. Being acknowledged like this, even in such a small way, was a rare gift, and it filled you with a quiet, unexpected happiness.

“Thank you, I’m glad I could help.” You hung back, careful that the others didn’t overhear, before continuing in a low voice. “Also, we ran into a strange guy at the lab- shapeshifter, I think. He fought with us. And Immortal insisted on bringing him to HQ but… I’m not sure, something’s off about him.”

Cecil sighed. “Yes, we know.” Oh, so they were indeed monitoring you. “We’ll keep an eye on Shapesmith, but for now let him be. Don’t hesitate to report anything suspicious.” Looked like he already knew just as much as you did, since he mentioned Shapesmith’s name- nothing got past Cecil.

You picked up your pace to catch up with the others; Immortal was already giving Shapesmith a tour, presentinh him every corner of the building- he actually seemed excited having him as an addition to the team.

“And over here is our training room,” Immortal stated, him and his new buddy leading the group.

“Woww, look at all those… those things!” This was probably the happiest person you had seen in a while. Shapesmith gawked like a kid in a toy store- except he was a grown man, all wide eyes and unrestrained excitement.

“Ooh why don’t you show him the shower, Immortal?” Rex hissed, suddenly fuming at what had happened in the morning. You lingered in the back, keeping a close eye on Kate, whose hands were clenched into fists- she was radiating irritation. “It’s suuuper roomy, you could do anything in there, right?” Rex continued.

You bit your bottom lip until it hurt- anything not to bark a laugh out loud. Immortal was more furious than ever- his eyebrows had transformed into a singular one from his deep frown. Still, the funniest part of it all was the fact that he couldn’t fire back, not in front of the whole team.

“And you all get to live here?”  Shapesmith asked in awe.

“Play your cards right and maybe you can, too, someday.” Ugh, who the fuck does this guy think he is? You could bet on anything that he had a handwritten notebook, dating back before Jesus was even born, filled with all these cheesy lines. “The Guardians could use someone with your talents.”

“Really?” His eyes were sparkling.

“Forgive me for questioning your authority, Immortal, but we don't know anything about the Shapesmith.” Rudy’s voice cut through, the weight of the tone he used making his point impossible to ignore.

You shifted your stance, crossing your arms. The whole room seemed to tilt toward Immortal now, everyone waiting for some kind of answer. Even Rex- usually too busy with his own running commentary- kept his mouth shut.

“I can tell you. I can tell you. I can tell you.” What is this guy on? His words tumbled out too fast, too eager, like he’d rehearsed them in the mirror a hundred times. Glancing in Rae’s direction, she exuded confusion. She caught your look and only raised her eyebrows, the picture of disbelief.

“I was born a baby human, right here on the planet of Earth!” My ass you were. You bit back a laugh, your lips twitching. The guy said it like he was announcing a prize on some game show, his voice annoyingly bright and cheerful. Honestly, if he ever got tired of the superhero gig, he could probably make a splash as a morning radio host with that delivery. “I got my superpowers in a random industrial accident. I swore to use my abilities for good and to help people and to protect my planet, no matter what.”

He was acting precisely like a cartoon character. You tried picturing the whole story- random factory explosion, smoke, mortified witnesses, dramatic music- but every time you imagined him younger, your brain betrayed you. Instead of a baby, all you could see was a toddler-sized version of him with that same adult face plastered on. It was nightmare fuel.

“Because I am a normal human superhero! Am I in?” Shapesmith finished with his palms pressed together, like he was literally praying to be accepted.

For a second, the silence stretched out. His backstory was absolute bullshit, the fakest thing you’d ever heard, and it was so painfully obvious that you were shocked nobody had roasted him so far. But instead, Immortal stepped forward, his jaw set, his tone final:

“He’s in.”

That’s it? No questions asked? After centuries of walking on Earth, watching civilizations rise and fall, Immortal still hadn’t figured out how to outgrow his naivety or spot a bad cover story? At least Cecil would be paying attention. He always did. The man probably had half a dozen satellites trained on Shapesmith already, ready to analyze his breakfast choices if necessary. To be fair, this guy didn’t exactly scream “danger,” anyway; he was just lying in the most painfully blatant way possible- for who knows what reason. His lies were so laughably transparent it was almost insulting, and yet… somehow he was still less exhausting to be around than certain others on the team. Which was saying something.

After quickly introducing yourself to Shapesmith, you slipped away and disappeared into your room- it had been one hell of a first day on the job, and you were running on fumes. Collapsing into the chair, you flipped open your laptop and put some music on. The sound quality was predictably poor and distorted through the cheap speakers, and you caught yourself daydreaming again about treating yourself to a proper setup: a sleek CD player, maybe a nice amplifier. Maybe even a record player, but that would have been much more expensive.

You still had the 150 bucks you’d found in your backpack the other day, folded neatly like it was waiting for you to make a decision. And that raised the question that had been scratching at the back of your mind since you set foot in this whole mess: did being a superhero actually come with a paycheck? Like, were you technically on the GDA payroll now, or was it more of a “we feed you, clothe you, and give you a place to sleep” arrangement? And if it was a salary, how exactly would that work for you? You didn’t even have a bank account. No ID, no credit card, no history in this world at all. Just some cash in a bag and whatever the GDA was willing to provide.

In a blink, you were standing in the kitchen, causing everyone present to gasp and jump a bit back. Noticing their reactions, you suddenly became aware that they weren’t quite familiar to your powers yet- giving it a second thought it was probably their first time witnessing your abilities.

“Oops, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Scratching the back of your head, you glanced around before carrying on “that’ s just how I like to get around when I’m a bit- late.” Your gaze found Immortal’s, who was visibly irritated by your slight tardiness. Without a word, he uncrossed his arms before leaving.

“No, you’re good! We’re just used to only seeing Cecil pull this kind of stuff.” Amanda pointed out.

You just smiled faintly as a response, a small, almost automatic gesture. You found yourself studying the kitchen- mapping out the unknown territory, your eyes roamed around the area, noting every counter and cabinet, with justified curiosity. Your gaze inevitably landed on the drip coffee maker, its metallic glint catching the morning light, standing out.  You moved towards it, the smell of caffeine growing in intensity with each step. Reaching to grab the pot, your fingers only brushed thin air- another figure had slid ahead of you, claiming it first. Your shoulders collided for just a split second, the unexpected contact stopping you in your tracks.

After recovering your poise, you noticed a shirtless Rex, who was already pouring himself a cup of hot, black coffee, leaving not a single drop of the dark brown liquid in the pot.

“Seriously?” you asked, forcing your voice to stay steady, though the irritation bubbling inside was almost impossible to hide. Coffee was the one thing that could make mornings even remotely tolerable, and since you didn’t have a moment to spare, there was simply not enough time for you to brew another pot of it.

Rex just shrugged, a lazy grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, before exiting the room.

“Forget about him, I promise I’ll make you an espresso when we’re done. We should head out, too.” said Rae in your direction, given that you were the only ones still there.

You followed her lead with quiet trust, knowing the destination was where the group training session happened. You walked through tall, imposing hallways, designed in a futuristic manner- smooth surfaces and angular shapes decorating each wall. Yet, the lack of color made the entire place feel impersonal; shades of muted grey stretched across the long corridors, creating a cold, almost sterile environment.

The two of you slipped inside a massive gym; all the equipment one could need or image was ready for use, but the place was completely empty. Neon lights illuminated the chamber, making the metallic accents of the workout gear pop out. Each footstep released a soft echo, since the usual chatter and banter that went on between the team members was absent- everyone had already gathered in the sparring area.

The respective space was situated right to the gym, and the first thing that caught your attention was the towering interior. The floor was made of polished, rectangular tiles, which faintly reflected the neutral light, seemingly coming from every corner. The same hues of grey described the walls, completing the austere, minimalistic design.

You and Rae fell in line with the others, waiting for Immortal’s instructions. Your mind raced to the day before, when Cecil had introduced you to the Guardians, ultimately remembering the way Rex had berated about their leader’s medieval training techniques.

“It can’t be that bad…” you pondered silently.

The formation felt more like a school assembly rather than superhero training. Out of restlessness, or even excitement, you let your eyes wonder down the row, noticing everyone’s little, involuntary gestures. Amanda, still in her human form, was shifting her stance every couple of seconds, bouncing from leg to leg. On the to her hand, shaping a totally different mood, Rae- her right shoulder slightly brushing against your left one from time to time- resignedly cleaned her glasses with the fabric of her costume’s sleeve.

Black Samson was waiting first in line; his arms were tightly folded across his chest, while his face was carved in stone, unreadable. Judging by his posture, you could tell he harbored a hint of envy for the authority Immortal imposed- despite being resented by most of the Guardians, no one could question his decisions without facing further consequences.

Kate, just three spots down, busied herself with her hair- occasionally bouncing her knee, she was clearly preoccupied by something else. Bulletproof was already preparing himself- methodically stretching before launching into jumping high knees in place. You couldn’t help but find it odd- this guy was willingly burning energy for nothing, given the long hours of grueling training that were still ahead.

Rudy was wearing a black bodysuit, entirely covering his members. Besides him, an orange robot, about 2 meters tall, was standing still, seemingly out of service. Suddenly, the gears started turning inside your head- piecing together Donald’s description about the Guardians’ former leader and Rex’s story from the other night, you realized Rudy used to be Robot- the whole scenario was now even more sinister than you had originally thought. You felt stupid for not connecting the dots sooner, especially after all those blatantly robotic mannerisms he had shown.

Rex stood a few steps away with his left hand shoved in his pocket, while he used the other one to shamelessly dig at his nose, radiating boredom. You curled your lip in disgust at his childish gesture, the combination of arrogance and carelessness making it impossible to look away without audibly rolling your eyes. His whole attitude screamed indifference, as if standing here was beneath him.

Usually, you formed opinions about people quickly, even if they were based on stereotypes; a glance, a tone, the way someone spoke- it was usually enough for you to sketch out who they were or who they wanted to be. Something about Rex resisted those easy labels. He looked like the type you could dismiss right away- cocky, smug, the kind of guy who made everything about himself. Yet, all these negative traits were tempered by a charisma that somehow made people forgive his ego. It was a weird phenomenon you couldn’t find a reasonable explanation for.

Finally, you shifted your gaze back on Immortal, whose long pause was getting rather annoying. He had made the effort to get out of bed earlier specifically to wake you up, and maybe even the others, in the most disgraceful way, only to impersonate a drill sergeant for dramatic effect.

“You all should know the routine by now- we’ll start by sparring in pairs, no powers allowed.”  Everyone groaned in an exaggerated way, though their collective reaction didn’t faze Immortal in the slightest. “Today, our newcomer gets to showcase her abilities.”

Too many pairs of eyes were suddenly on you, a déjà vu to a couple of days ago when Cecil had first brought you in. The Immortal called your name, gesturing you to step forward with a rapid motion.

“Kate will be your partner for this session. Bulletproof and Rex, you’ll be on the other side.”

“Fuck man, I really wanted to see my new neighbor get trashed.” Rex said dryly, before strolling off with his sparring buddy.

You opened your mouth to fire back, only to realize that anything you blurted out in anger would come out wrong- and probably sound like a jab at Kate, since she was the one you were about to face. So you decided to keep your mouth shut- you were sure better opportunities would arise to get back at Rex for his unnecessary insults.

You and Kate stepped into the designated area for the exercise, and she immediately assumed a fighting stance- it was clear she was taking this whole thing very seriously. You shifted into a proper stance, taking a defensive posture- cautious, aware that you didn’t yet know her fighting style. You let her take the first move, watching every subtle shift in her balance,ready to react the instant Kate struck. Without missing a beat, she launched towards you in a failed attempt to land a kick in your chest. Kate didn’t seem unnerved in any way by the way you quickly dodged her hit, ultimately closing the distance for the second time but, once again, you ducked under her swift swing. You had been holding back for way too long- a surge of adrenaline pumped through your veins. Your heart was hammering, each beat echoing in your ears.

You decided to mirror’s Kate actions- sweat began to bead on your forehead as the pace accelerated; punches came fast, hooks and kicks landing close enough to hurt and leave dark bruises. You were well aware that the others were closely watching your match; Immortal and Rudy must have had notes on your errors piling up like hell. Kate’s agility and the way she seemed to adapt to any rhythm change reflected her vast experience regarding fighting, but she wasn’t the only one well-versed in that field. Your fists clenched yet again, searching to end the fight faster, since your tiredness kept you from reaching full potential.

But your focus wavered for the briefest second- your gaze drifting toward the other sparring match nearby, where Rex and Bulletproof clashed in a storm of chaotic energy. Just for a second, you watched Rex throw a wild punch, and in that instant of distraction, Kate took full advantage of the opening. A brutal shot of hers hit your stomach, stealing your breath- you gasped for air, not fully grasping what had just happened. You didn’t let yourself hesitate again- “Where the fuck am I looking?” you mentally scolded. Your body snapped right back into action, fueled by the anger caused by your idiotic mistake.

Kate’s pride was now beaming through the roof as a mischievous smile crept on her face. For just an instant, it looked like she had the upper hand- but you quickly shook off the thought, by reminding yourself that how your colleagues viewed you as a superhero was at stake.  Then, in a rare moment of hesitation, caused by her sudden overconfidence, Kate overextended a punch, practically inviting you to seize the opportunity. With a mixture of luck and instinct, you avoided her blow, using the extra time to sweep her leg, sending Kate to the ground. Moments like that, gone in a heartbeat, always left you thinking: “How the hell does my body know what to do so fast? I can’t even keep up, but somehow I’m moving before I’ve even realized it. It’s like I’m on autopilot or something.”

The atmosphere had shifted; everyone present, except for Rex and Bulletproof who were still going at it, had acknowledged your win. You approached Kate who was still on the ground, stretching your arm to help her stand up.

“It was a lucky shot.” You emphasized, wanting to diminish to emotional damage you had clearly put her through.

“Yeah, whatever.” Kate said curtly, before storming off.

You couldn’t help but find her reaction a bit silly- it was just a meaningless training session, nothing worth throwing a fit over.  Still, it was obvious what had actually stung: the newbie had managed to beat her in a hand-to-hand fight, and pride could bruise deeper than any punch. You felt Rae’s warm hand settle on your shoulder, steady and reassuring. She didn’t say much, but the faint squeeze of her fingers and the small, knowing smile she gave you said enough.

The two of you were interrupted by the unmistakable thud of a body hitting the floor. You turned just in time to catch the end of Rex’s spar with Bulletproof- both of them were drenched in sweat, chests heaving. Bulletproof had barely managed to knock Rex down, and even then it looked more like a fluke than outright domination.

Rex lay on his back for a beat, glaring up at the ceiling. “Seriously? That’s all you got?” he muttered, taking off his goggles.

Bulletproof just smirked, leaning down a bit “One more round, and you’re kissing the floor again.”

Their quick back-and-forth was pure testosterone on display- classic male ego at work.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever man.” He snapped back while pushing himself off the ground, brushing off imaginary dust with a fake grin. Typical Rex- pretending he didn’t give a damn, when in reality he’d probably be replaying every move in his head.

Now it was the others’ turn. The first match-up pitted Rae against Black Samson, while the second saw Immortal facing Rudy. Amanda watched from the sidelines, arms crossed. Transforming into her monster form would have completely unbalanced the fight, turning it into a one-sided stomp, and sending in her human form as a little girl felt equally pointless- it wouldn’t have tested anyone’s skills fairly.

Black Samson managed to take Rae down, though part of that was simply his size- you found it quite unfair. Rae fought fiercely, but every move he made was precise, deliberate, and brutally efficient. Having lost his powers for a long stretch of time, hand-to-hand combat was all he had to rely on during that period- and he had mastered very well.

Immortal faced off against Rudy, who stayed in his robot costume and deliberately avoided using any of his lasers and devices. Even so, Immortal’s experience and raw power gave him an unjust advantage- and Rudy went down, exhausted.

You couldn’t help but think it was completely unnecessary to spar without using your powers. In what possible scenario would we ever be left without them? It felt like Immortal took some sadistic pleasure in making his teammates suffer for no reason. Just as you were debating whether it was worth the effort, your maniac’s voice cut through the tension:

“New drill.” The Immortal announced. “You’ll be rescuing civilians from a group of villains. Powers are allowed- but every time someone messes up, the entire exercise restarts.”

A holographic city sprang to life around the training area, citizens running from 3D projections of villains, cars overturned, and explosions suspended in midair.

 “Oh, perfect,” muttered Rex, putting his goggles back on. “So if I fart too loud, we all go back to square one. Great.”

“Yeah, genius, that’s the whole point. Maybe try quitting the whole pyro act for once,” Rae replied playfully, nudging him as she walked past. They seemed… close, in a friendly way.

“Stop whining, Rex. The less mistakes we make, the faster we finish.” Black Samson added, clearly used to Rex constantly having something to complain about.

You could already sense what was coming. “Ha, that’s what she said” snarked Rex, laughing on his own at his seventh-grade-tier joke.

The drill started smoothly enough, at least in theory. Holo-civilians were running from virtual villains, explosions popping in the background, and everyone jumped into action. You teleported ahead in order to grab a civilian trapped behind a crumbling building and since he was already there, Rex tried to cover your side, by making use of the disks tied by his belt. 

At first, it seemed like you two had it handled. You managed to get the injured person back to safety, but of course things had to go sideways, because of him. You blinked, aiming to attack a villain rapidly approaching a group of civilians, as Rex lunged to intercept the same enemy at the exact same time you appeared- the two of you collided mid-teleport, tumbling into each other. Taking advantage of your desynchronization, the villain’s plan to kill the innocent people worked out perfectly. Instantly, a loud, obnoxious alarm blared: RESET.

“Oh, come on! You just had to screw it up!” Rex groaned in your direction.

Bulletproof rolled his eyes, mumbling something probably not safe for work, while Kate had her hands on her hips in exasperation.

“Me?! Yeah, nothing screams teamwork more than blaming others for your shit!” you clapped back, getting ready for the exercise to start again.

******

You were practically crawling into the common area at this point, every step you took causing you to wince- if an actual mission was to come up right now, you were pretty certain even a small child could easily take you out. Considering the others were also barely dragging their limbs across the floor, it made you feel a little bit better, giving you some reassurance you weren’t out of shape. You planted yourself on the ground, the impact of your back painfully hitting the floor with a loud thud was practically undetectable, as it was overshadowed by sore arms and legs accompanied by potential  muscle strains. Everyone’s costume was more or less torn, making you question if these guys had more than one suit.

“I quit, I’m done. Fuck your training, man.”Rex said, looking completely wrecked- the most disheveled of the entire team. His goggles had fallen off, and his suit was absolutely shredded. Not to mention his eyes. His right one was a disgusting mess- puffy, purple and black, with hints of yellow already creeping at the edges, while his left eye was almost swollen shut. Just looking at them made your stomach twist.

“People try and kill me every single day! Look, I don’t need that shit at home!” Rex continued his complaint, and for the first time, you agreed with him. What exactly were you training for?

Immortal didn’t give a damn- his composure was intact, his hair perfectly in place, exactly as it had been during breakfast. He didn’t look like he actually broke any sweat. He was levitating above all of you, with his arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

”Somebody got me in the balls.,” Rex added, the trail of blood from his nose drawing your attention. Looking closely, you noticed the same dried crimson liquid underneath your fingernails; you didn’t even know whose it was, or when exactly it had gotten there.

“Maybe if you trained more and complained less, we could get back to saving lives.” Immortal reproached Rex, to which he responded with a loud, frustrated sigh.

“We just stopped him from being that guy, ” he continued by pointing at Black Samson, “and now we’ve got you?” But Immortal was nowhere in sight. “Ugh, fuck my life,” grumbled Rex one again, before heading out.

Soon, the simultaneous panting of everyone present dimmed down, as each teammate left one by one. You teleported straight to the shared bathroom, grabbing some fresh clothes you had left in your locker earlier- you tossed your ripped suit into the laundry bin, just as Rae had instructed. Apparently, it would be fixed in a couple of hours- by whoever “they” were. Probably the same people from the GDA who could magically make food appear in the fridge. You walked over to the farthest shower, hoping this would minimize any chance of running into another member- talking was the last thing on your mind right now. You sank to the cold floor, too exhausted to stand, as hot steam filled the cabin and the near-boiling water nursed your aching body.

A few minutes later, a pair of footsteps, quickly followed by another, subtly entered the bathroom and moved towards the opposite end, faint giggles reaching your ears. Maybe if you weren’t so tired you would have been noisier, trying to find out what was going on. But right now, nothing could interrupt your relaxation. A couple of more minutes passed, and the bed was begging for your name. You turned off the water, and as you prepared to open the door, not wanting to waste energy on teleporting out of there, someone else came in.

“Kateee, is that you?” Rex’s singsongy voice rang as he approached the area where the two who had come in earlier were. “I’ve got a boo-boo, that could some dupli-kisses!” he then proceeded to laugh like a gremlin.

What did he just say? Must have been the wind…

You knew you were invading their privacy since they thought they were alone. But looking at it again, they were in public space- you had just as much right to be here as they did. A door opened, and then Kate infuriated voice filled the bathroom:

“First of all, we are not dating.”

For fuck’s sake, what am I still doing here?

“And second of all, that's inappropriate language for the workplace. So kiss your own boo-boo...” she didn’t get the chance to finish her lecture as a deep, hungry moan escaped her lips.

“Wait, I know that look!” Suspense. “Oh, are you shitting me?!” You could hear another three people stepping out. Who the hell was in there? “You goddamn geriatric hypocrite!” No, it can’t be…

“This is none of your business.” snapped back The Immortal. It was easy enough to put together the fact that he was alongside at least 3 more Kates- and it was utterly disgusting. Why would she waste her youth hooking up with an actual prehistoric man? It was a million times more revolting picturing them together than imagining Kate and Rex doing it- at least Rex is her age, not old enough to have babysat her great-grandparents.

“Aw, come on!” he barked again, probably still hoping she would change her mind- most likely not a possible scenario.

“You and I were never a thing,” Ouch. “Immortal and I are. Deal with it.” Ew.

“Kate… don't do this… please.” Rex’s defeated voice echoed from around the corner, and you felt a twinge of sympathy for him- but you were certain he was at fault for the whole situationship between them. The way they perceived their bond was baffling: somehow, he expected her to be available, while she had clearly stated they were never “a thing”. Funny how people can interpret the same thing in such completely different ways.

Guilt prickled at the back of your mind- you knew you shouldn’t have been eavesdropping on what was obviously meant to be a private conversation. The shared bathroom or not, people deserved their moments without an audience. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. The whole thing was just too absurd, too entertaining. Come to think of it, anyone else in your shoes would have been practically trapped, unable to exit the showers without running into them and creating an unbearably awkward scene. The main reason you felt guilty was that, unlike them, you could leave—but your curiosity had gotten the better of you.

You grabbed your clothes and finally teleported to your room, without anyone figuring you were ever there. You still couldn’t wrap your head around it. First, there was Rex and Kate- a disaster that in a way managed to be both predictable and gross, as both of them had proved to be assholes in an entirely different manner. Now, after what you had witnessed in the showers, Kate and Immortal? The whole thing tangled in your mind like a bad, cheesy soap opera plot you wanted no part in. It didn’t make sense; how on Earth did she come to the conclusion that trading Rex’s immaturity for a guy old enough to have invented fire would have a better outcome for her?

You never really bought into the propaganda that said you should never mess around with colleagues. When you were teammates with people your own age, and when superhero work chewed up almost all your free time, it was only natural to find a bit of comfort or let yourself get distracted just for a few sweet moments by hooking up with someone in the same boat. That part you could understand. But Kate and Immortal? That was just plain repulsive. And the whole orgy situation on top of it? Ew. Just… ew.

 You let out a frustrated sigh at the clock—11:23 AM.

 Great, the day was barely starting, and it already felt endless.

“Cecil, what is this?” questioned a buff prehistorical looking man. He looked like he could fit the profile of a dictator. You raised your eyebrows, taken aback by your future leader’s abrasiveness.

“Miss here comes from the future. A devastating one, where the Viltrumites succeeded in conquering Earth.” Cecil took a beat and then proceeded again, “Due to her space manipulation abilities, more specifically teleportation, she is certainly going to be a beneficial addition to the team.”

“Wait, I’m missing something.” A little girl said, stepping out, radiating a weird sense of maturity coming from her gestures and tone. “How did you get here?” she continued, genuine curiosity splattered across her face.

“Long story short, I accidentally time travelled here in an attempt to escape the reality I was living in. Time manipulation is very delicate, and I’m still figuring out how it really works.” you simply stated.

“Then I’ll leave you and the team to figure the sleeping arrangements yourselves. The others will put you up to the training schedule and how everything works around here.” Cecil then nodded as a salute, vanishing out of thin air. Huh. Seems like your teleportation abilities weren’t so uncommon after all.

Black Samson was the first to come greet you and introduce himself with a firm handshake, before making a discreet exit. The other members of the team seemed already bored of you, or that was the impression the current situation outlined, given that they were leaving the common area. A drifting indifference could be easily felt from their part, as if your presence never tipped the air one way or another. You could still hear the fading voices of Immortal and a younger woman, dressed in a purple suit, hugging her athletic body tightly. You hmphed, crossing your arms defensively, not wanting to appear hurt by their actions. Everyone seemed to pick up whatever business they had temporarily abandoned when Cecil had called them, completely unphased by you becoming their new colleague. And you didn’t really blame them; you figured it was quite normal when a new superhero made a pit stop at the Guardian’s HQ, hanging around for a few weeks, ultimately dropping out due to the pressure. Or dying. A cold shiver went down your spine, and you immediately felt goosebumps spread across every inch of your skin.  These were the kind of thoughts and mind games your overthinking was generating, your brain subconsciously trying to find excuses for the lack of concern the other presented towards you.

Then, it finally happened. A small group consisting of a taller young woman wearing a green suit with a big “R” in the middle, accompanied by the girl who had previously asked you how you ended up travelling to the past and a boy who looked to be roughly the same age as her, probably around 13 years old, approached you. You could easily identify the girls from Donald’s stories, but the other kid didn’t ring a bell.

“Hi, I’m Rae!” she said with a smile. “These are Amanda and Rudy.” You all shook hands, mentioning your first name again, relieved that someone actually looked pleased to have a new team member.

Rae was definitely around your age, and you instantly took a liking in her. Her bayonetta glasses were certainly a look that made her stand out in a good way. Her long brown hair, clipped at the back in a ponytail complimented her face, making her grey eyes pop out. She came across as your type of person and you were really glad she had broken the ice, coming to say hello to you first. Moreover, her superpowers made Rae even more interesting.

On the other hand, Amanda stood out in a different way; if you hadn’t been informed earlier regarding the curse, her age would have been quite intriguing. Somehow, despite her small figure and extremely youthful appearance, the mannerism she used was on the opposite end.

“And that guy sitting over there and staring at us like a creep is Rex.” Rae added, pointing at a figure manspreading in a black armchair just a few steps away from where you four were discussing.

 He had taken off his headcap and goggles, observing your interaction from a distance. He just radiated arrogance and swagger. Rex’s face definitely matched his attitude- his jaw was sharp, and you could notice a lopsided smirk forming. His skin was a dark tan, making you question his ethnicity. Oh, and of course he had a manbun; the loosely tied auburn hair really completed his appearance, serving as a final confirmation that he was indeed an asshole. His mischievous eyes were measuring you up and down and, for some reason, your heart dropped a bit when he stood up.

“Can’t a man chill in peace these days.” He then tapped his foot on the ground, and, out of nowhere, an immense fridge emerged from underneath. Rex grabbed two beers and left, adding a quick “you know where to find me”, the same shit-eating grin still written all over his face.

“The hell’s his deal?” you couldn’t help but smile, completely forgetting for a second about his harsh comment he had said when Cecil had brought you in.

“He’s your average douchebag. Actually no, I think he’s crossed that line a long time ago.” Amanda snarked. “Come on! Let’s get you a bedroom.”

You grabbed your backpack off the ground, immediately noticing how light it was. For the record, you had no clue what it contained, since Cecil was the one to hand it to you before entering the Guardians HQ. You were already in costume so it made sense that the other belongings you were to discover when unpacking would be nothing more than “normal” clothes, like streetwear and active wear.

The girls led you to the elevator, taking you a floor down, and then guided you through the dimly lit corridors, in contrast to the common area, which was flooded with white light. The three of you chattered aimlessly, tossing casual, easygoing comments about anything and everything, yet something else engrossed your mind.

You resisted every urge to turn your head back in order to catch a glimpse of Rudy, who had been lingering behind you and the girls the whole trip. You sensed a heavy weight at the back of your neck; a pair of eyes had been peeling you open for inspection for the last 5 minutes. He was just borderline creepy. Similarly to Amanda, you could swear that Rudy was not just some kid. Also, the physical resemblance he shared with Rex was utterly unsettling; maybe they were brothers? Maybe Rudy was his son? You face palmed yourself internally for even giving this scenario a shot; it was that stupid of an idea that you regretted your brain had wasted good energy to produce it. Since Donald had not mentioned anything about Rudy, you found yourself wondering what his powers were. Then, a horrible, dreadful thought crossed your mind in a flash: what if he could read MINDS-

“We’re here!”  announced Rae, pointing at an open door. She mentioned that another room was available towards the end of the hallway, but it shared a common wall with Immortal’s bedroom, and nobody in the right mind would willingly stay there. She also informed you that her room was right next to yours, and that your other wall neighbor was Rex. Well, it was half a win, you thought to yourself.

After another few minutes, they let you enjoy your privacy, even though you desperately wanted to chat with any of them a tad longer. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later” you reassured yourself. It’s not like they were leaving any time soon, and neither would you.

You planted onto the ground, unzipping the backpack and carelessly taking everything out. You came across a toiletry bag, three simple T-shirts, two tank tops, a pair of grey joggers, two pairs of tennis shorts, a pajama, some socks, a few pieces of underwear and a sports bra. It was mandatory for you to go shopping ASAP. You had dreamt about experiencing this activity; in your dystopic world shopping did not exist. Sure, trading objects in favor of others was a common reoccurrence; making exchanges was extremely frequent, since everybody had stocks of various, different items. You vividly remember repairing radios for expired beer and doing a bunch of humiliating acts for the sake of getting to taste steak once a week, a nice break from the usual bologna you ate 3 times a day.

After fantasizing a bit about running from shop to shop for hours, the realization that you needed actual money to fulfill your desire dawned sharply. In that moment, using your powers to steal seemed like the ideal solution; you’d grab each piece of clothing you liked and just poof out of there, without anyone being able to find you afterwards.

“No.” you told yourself. You were going to do things the clean way, the right way, and becoming a thief on your first day on The Guardians did not fall into the category. You frantically checked every pocket of that backpack, and, surprisingly, you found 150 bucks.

“Hope the inflation is not real here.” you muttered to yourself, before shoving the money in your nightstands’ top drawer.

You decided to kill some time by browsing the internet using the laptop that was already on the desk when you had arrived. You put on some tunes, suddenly becoming aware that you and these people, even though you were technically thirty years younger than them, probably had similar music and movie taste, given that in your world nothing new art wise had been produced since the Viltrum Empire had struck. Funny how time works.

***

You didn’t know what time it was when you woke up from your nap, somehow you had fallen asleep on your desk chair. Checking the digital clock, you see: 9:43 pm. There was no way you’d be asleep before 2 AM. A great start. Your neck hurt from the unnatural position you had landed in, and you were more than certain that a red spot marked your forehead. Muffled chatter and laughter filled your ears, and your legs were steering you towards the door. You were now out of your costume, trading it for comfortable sweatpants and a black tank top.

Rae’s door was ajar, so you peeped inside. You could make out 4 figures: Rae, Rex, the young woman who had left the common room accompanied by Immortal, you knew her alias was Dupli-Kate, and another guy, who seemed a tiny bit older. You figured he must be Bulletproof. They were all drinking beer and laughing obnoxiously at some story Rex was narrating with over-the-top gesturing.

“Are you gonna come in or keep gawking like a weirdo?” Rae chuckled, clearly still not over Rex’s joke. She stretched and kicked the door fully open, revealing you to the others.

Rex was sprawled on the unmade bed like a beached whale; he was now wearing basic civilian clothes: camo shorts paired with a dark grey tank top, which clung carelessly to his body. You told yourself you didn’t like him, but it would’ve been foolish not to acknowledge the appeal. Somehow, he already seemed to catch your eye far more than any other teammate. And for what? He had up to this point proved that he was a complete moron; plus, the girls had confirmed your hypothesis, suggesting you he was that type of guy. Still, you couldn’t help but notice the sharp angles of his arm muscles, curved with precision underneath his bronzed skin. Your gaze lingered just a touch longer than you had intended, but you quicky snapped out of your trance before he, or anyone else for that matter, could recognize what you had been doing.

“If the others don’t mind, then sure!” As no one objected, you stepped inside. You took a seat on the ground, next to the foot of the bed, since that was the only empty spot in the already crowded room. You could sense Rex adjusting his position behind you, ultimately deciding to ignore the shifting of the sheets.

“I’m Bulletproof, by the way” he had leaned over the space between you two, offering his hand for you to shake with an easy motion. Your arms met halfway, and you repeated your  first name, even though you had figured he was aware of it by now.

Perched on the edge of the only chair in the room, Kate also mumbled her name, her voice carrying the words clearly out of obligation. It almost seemed like an effort for her. You just nodded with a smile.

The door screeched.

“Hey guys, look what I’ve got!” Amanda announced, making her entrance with Rudy by her side, each carrying a six-pack.

“Uhh, finally, my mouth is all dry and shit from this damn thing!” Rex exclaimed while getting off the bed, simultaneously placing a dirty mug on the nightstand, right behind your head. Curios, you picked it up, taking a quick sniff. You immediately felt your nose unclog from the horrid smell the yellowish-brown liquid reeked of.

“My God, what the hell is this?” you questioned the others, holding the mug with your arms stretched out for everybody to see. Disgust was the only emotion your face revealed.

“Yeah, yeah, you all complain <<Oh, it smells so bad! Oh, it tastes like shit!>> but you still keep begging me to ask The Immortal for more!” Kate had both her hands up in the air, genuinely affected by your remark. Obviously, it had struck her on a personal, molecular level.

“I’m way over the begging stage with you.” Rex grinned looking her dead in the eye, ripping open the cardboard that enclosed the beers. He grabbed two, apparently both for himself. Rex then reclaimed his designated spot on the bed, leaving room for Amanda and Rudy to sit there as well.

“Come on, Kate, you know we’re just joking. We’d never refuse liquor or wine from Immortal’s stash.” Rae passed you a beer bottle with the cap already off, muttering a subtle “Ignore her”. The two of you shared a short chuckle.

“Woah, woah, have you even had alcohol before? Like ever?” Rex snickered when he noticed you taking a solid swing of the drink. You turned your whole body in order to face him.

”What?” Was he actually being serios?

”What? Didn’t think that you people had time to get drunk in the apocalypse. And how the fuck did you have alcohol? Doesn’t it expire or something?”

Amanda obnoxiously snorted.

“Yes, Rex, we had booze. I come from the future, not the Prohibition Era.” you retorted, sparking a few giggles from the others.

“Are you aware that most categories of alcohol actually taste better with age?” it was the first time ever you heard Rudy speak; his tone lacked any inflection, he almost seemed robotic. “Wine and a large variety of spirts have indefinite shelf life if stored properly. On the other hand, beer does expire, but you can still technically drink it if-”

“Fine, geez! Can you, like, stop overexplaining yourself for once!” Rex groaned, accidentally elbowing Amanda in the ribs, who lightly punched his arm back in response.

“For someone who drinks beer at 9 AM on Tuesday, I expected you to have some basic knowledge on this. Kind of disappointing, really.” Rae was now scooting over next to you, all smiles, like she had been the whole evening.

Rex mumbled something under his breath, sipping the last drop of his beer. He then opened another.

Since nobody had been saying anything for the last couple of seconds, you supposed it was the perfect opportunity to ask the question that had been sitting in the back of your head for hours.

”So, are you two related?” you flickered your finger between Rudy and Rex.

“Man, not this again…” complained Bulletproof, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Prepare yourself.” whispered Rae in your ear. She passed you your bottle, suggesting to take another gulp for your emotional wellbeing. Your drink was now half empty. Or half full, like your mother used to say. NO, now was not the time. You quickly scratched that thought before memories started consuming you again.

Rex inhaled deeply as he stood up, moving towards the middle of the room, beer still in his left hand. Surprisingly, during his short but full of obstacles journey towards the center, Rex managed not to step on any of the people lolling on the ground. A vein was painfully throbbing in the middle of his forehead. You hardly choked back your laughter.

“NO, he’s not my brother or kid or nephew or whatever the fuck we look like we are! This guy right here, who, by the way, was shamelessly lying to us for the last, what, 2 or 3 YEARS, making us think that he was a goddamn robot, when in reality he was an actual fucking person, is the fraud!” Rex was already out of breath, from all the hysterical hand gestures and aggressive pointing in Rudy’s direction. Rae intervened before Rex could continue his manic speech.

“Long story short, Rudy wanted a proper human body, so he burrowed-“

“Stole!”

“-Rex’s DNA. But we’re way past that, right?” she nudged Rex with her foot, and he finally sat down.

Well, that was really fucked-up. No wonder he was so defensive and angry about it. You internally scolded yourself for asking a private question like that, despite the others not looking distraught at all. You hoped your curiosity didn’t hit a nerve, so you decided it was best to let the others fuel the conversation further, for now.

The rest of the night unfolded lazily, the minutes slipping in a haze of dimly recalled stories, genuine laughter and inside jokes that you were, as of now, unfamiliar with. But you still felt like part of their group and that held real weight. Music hummed softly in the background, and you were glad you could recognize most of the songs. At least that’s pretty much the same as home, you thought. Every so often, your attention was drawn to the stolen glances some of them shared- certain knowing looks or eyes than lingered just a fraction too long upon another person. And you knew damn well that you fell in that category as well; it was all too obvious that your gaze kept searching for a specific pair of green eyes.

Eventually, one by one, everybody left, and only you, Rex and Rae were left. Rex stood up, grabbed his boots off the ground and you got the cue that it was time for you to return to your room.

“Thanks for inviting me, Rae… I really enjoyed myself” you got on your feet as well, giving her a warm smile. She pulled you into a friendly hug, letting you know that you’re always welcome. Rex also murmured a faint ‘Night before the two of you left.

You carefully closed the door, cautious not to be too loud, and in no time both of you were standing in front of your own rooms.

“Night, Rex.”

“Yea, sleep tight. We’ll see how tomorrow goes.” Judging by his tone, it was a warning.

But for what? You teleported inside your room, since opening the door and shutting it afterwards would have been unnecessary noise. You picked up your pajamas off the ground, changing into them dreamily- your head was racing elsewhere. The fuck did he mean by that? How what goes?

Even though your mind was tangled with all sorts of thoughts- some playful, reminiscing pieces of conversation from that evening, others sharp and unforgiving, mostly consisting of regrets from a past life- all scrambled together in a somehow organized mess, you drifted into a deep sleep.

The future seemed promising.

“So we’re supposed to believe all that bullcrap you’ve just told us?” Your eyes landed on his badge, and you could make out the letters spelling his name: Cecil Stedman.

“Hey, eyes up here!”

“Yes! It’s the truth; how much more do I have to prove to you?”

His small outburst came like a slap to the face, leaving you momentarily stunned.

“Does the name Invincible ring a bell?”  Cecil held his look, steady and unyielding.

“Definitely- that’s how the Viltrumites seized control of Earth. By killing him.”

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, as a consequence of the devastating revelation. Apparently, this incident had not happened here up to this point. Yet…

“Who killed him? Omniman did?” Restlessness stirred beneath every each of his skin, but Cecil carefully concealed his unease.

“Oh, no- Omniman disappeared off the face of the planet after his fight with Invincible. They did a lot of irreparable damage in Chicago; at least that’s what I’ve heard from older people who actually lived through it. Another Viltrumite killed him after about two years since their confrontation, but that happened areally  long time ago and I don’t know much about the history. It wasn’t a pleasant memory for anyone, and it was still a sensitive topic for those who had witnessed it- so they rarely talked about it. I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful with that.”

Cecil sighed, before putting forward another question:

“And do you happen to know how many of them were roaming around Earth?”

“I don’t think more than four or five Viltrumites were present at the same time. Their ways of ruling were far more brutal and sadistic at the beginning of their reign- or whatever you want to call it. After some years, during which they killed anyone that questioned their ways and even more innocent people, they had practically crushed every last bit of hope, as no superhero was left breathing. So they toned it down- it’s not like anybody had a chance of even laying a finger on one of them.”

Cecil still didn’t look convinced, and you couldn’t help but move your gaze towards the other agent, hoping he would come to your rescue.

“Her blood levels are within limits, sir. So that means that she is telling the truth – “

“Yes, Donald, I know what it means, for Christ’s sake!” His annoyance was growing rapidly.

“Thank you! So does that mean I’m free to go?” you said, painfully aware that it would certainly not be the case.

“Well, well, not so easy now.” Cecil said, slowly recovering his composure. “I need a brief resume of everything, and then we’ll discuss where you are going to be placed. Because what you just said could potentially change a lot of aspects. We always value important intel.”

Whatever that meant. Absentmindedly, you looked at the man apparently named Donald, somewhat wishing he could give you a certainty that they didn’t mean to cause any harm. He just nodded, and for the moment it was enough.

“Fine, and for the record, again, I am completely honest. I swear! And I am trying to be as clear as possible.”

“Please go on,” Cecil replied, his indecipherable countenance back on again.

For starters, you stated your full name and age, for the second time that evening. You took a long, steady breath, before continuing.

“I come from another time, where the Viltrum Empire has been ruling planet Earth for roughly around four decades. Maybe even five. I was born into a simple family, no siblings. We live in underground so-called cities that are basically communities of people trying to survive and who have adapted to this lifestyle. It’s just your ordinary apocalypse scenario that the people from your period were romanticizing in their novels, except it’s obviously nothing like that.”

You made a short pause, trying to gather if you had been articulate enough. Cecil’s hand gesture for you to continue was a suggestive enough approval.

“I discovered my powers a few years back. I can manipulate space, meaning I can teleport short distances, essentially disappearing and reappearing instantly in another place. And, with everything I have been studying over the years, it was only logical that if I could jump through space, I should be able to jump through time.”

Looking down, you could see that your fingertips were each brushed with a dot of already dried crimson blood from all the nibbling you had still been doing inattentively this entire time. The two agents were patiently waiting for the climax of the story.

“Therefore, I decided to try it in secret. I knew my parents would think that I was playing with my luck, because the outcome of my actions was totally unpredictable. And they were right. The first time I gave it a shot, I ended up here. I’m not some crazy spy sent here by the Viltrumites or whatever you think I am. I’m just stuck! But, I mean, don’t get me wrong, I would really appreciate it if you didn’t send me back. Please, I am begging you!”

Your intention of acting like you are totally in control of the situation had failed miserably. Despite that, your desperate plea changed something in Cecil’s eyes and posture. He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly in a pensive state.

“You can sleep here tonight,” he stated after a few seconds that felt like an eternity.

Cecil stood up, gesturing for you to follow him, and Donald did the same. It was a silent walk down a poorly lit corridor, and, so far, it looked like you might actually be free. This present seemed better. Actually normal. So spending the night in this obscure building, which you had figured was government property, didn’t seem like such a nightmare.

Everything had happened too fast. Two hours ago you were sitting on your makeshift bed you had been sleeping in for the last few months, building up the courage to finally test the extent of your powers. A pile of science-fiction books could be found at the foot of the bed, each exploring time travel in a different manner. But, after all, they were fiction novels. For all you knew, it could all be bullshit, made up by some people with too much free time on their hands. Or they could have been like you. That being said, these pieces of writing still represented some kind of hope.

From the corner of your eye, you could make out the silhouette of your dad, fixing, or rather attempting to fix, a broken antenna. You gave him a faint smile, which he responded to the same way, causing your heart to suddenly drop. You felt cruel. Cruel for wanting to leave, knowing all too well that if you succeeded, it meant that you may never see your parents ever again. But after turning the situation over and over for the last couple of months, balancing possible after-effects, you ended up with the same conclusion: it would simply be unfair to yourself if you never tried to leave.

“We’re here, kid,” announced Cecil, snapping you out of your daydreaming, which he also seemed to notice. Opening the cold steel door, you were met with quite a spacious room, much different from what you had imagined. It even had a TV, a mini fridge and a private bathroom. Still, it felt a bit unwelcoming.

“So, this isn’t a prison cell, right?” You jokingly asked, hoping it would lighten up the mood, but the two agents didn’t look too impressed.

“It all depends on you. We’ll discuss further tomorrow. Goodnight.”

The door closed softly, and you were alone. Probably the first time you slept in your own room; back home everybody would crash close together, in case anything happened. Your tired legs led you towards the shower, and in no time hot water was pouring down your numb body. You hated how much you were enjoying the feeling of warm droplets touching every inch of your tired self, because you knew that your parents were still stuck living in that dirty, heartless world, with no way out.

It would be lying if you said that the three of you had a close relationship, or that you loved each other in the natural way you read about in books. The most accurate description of your bond was “work colleagues that have been assigned the same shift for way too many years”. Conversations felt like a routine, rarely developing into something more than what was strictly necessary, a constant reminder of the miserable life your family had been unfairly punished with. And yet, you were deeply thankful for them; and that subtle gratitude made you careful with your words around them, constantly seeking their validation and therefore being highly concerned about their views regarding your powers. Hence when you finally had built up the courage to bring up the topic of time travel, their harsh “We won’t allow it.” destroyed the little faith you had left.

That was not the answer you had expected; you really believed they would be nothing but supportive. However, after overthinking and obsessing over their unexpected disapproval, you subconsciously started convincing yourself that they were right- after all, time travel was just like gambling.

Nevertheless, a saying an old man working at the communal kitchen would always preache to everyone changed your approach:

If you don’t risk anything, you risk everything.

That’ s what made you decide to go ahead and care less about what others thought you should do, putting your wellbeing in the first place for once. Let yourself be selfish- for once and for all. Selfish, because you were the only one who could truly escape.

You turned off the now icy water, not knowing how long you had been staying, dumbfounded, in that damn shower. Steam curled around every inch of the bathroom; the mirror was now nothing but a foggy mess. With a slow drag of your hand across it, you were suddenly met with your exhausted self. Wet curls hung loosely across your shoulders, and you were too tired to notice the pool of water that had formed at your feet. A clean white towel was waiting next to the sink for you to grab it, but the plum-like dark circles coloring even your eyelids added to your hollowed cheeks were far more eye-catching. At some point, you stopped staring at yourself when you realized how dramatic you were acting. Wiping yourself dry, you entered the bedroom and plopped down headfirst onto the mattress, falling asleep in an instant.

 ******

The next morning, you expected to wake up from the best sleep of your life, but instead your back was stiff, and your eyes felt gritty, as if filled with sand. The air smelt too clean, and the sunlight streaming through the blinds was simply too much for how much brightness you were used to after living mostly underground. You shifted towards the edge of the bed- poking around closely, the space resembled what you pictured a modern hospital room would look like. Fidgeting, the well-familiar flash of cold blue curled around your fingers, the thought of teleporting yourself out of the facility taking over your mind almost like an instinct. Or maybe it was a simple fear response, even though a worse scenario than the one you had been living in up until the other day seemed impossible. So, you decided against it, patiently waiting for a new interrogation round, because you knew that if you left, they would probably find you in an instant. Next time they wouldn’t act so friendly and, instead, treat you like a criminal.

A knock on the door. Well, that was too big of a coincidence. Right when you were contemplating about disappearing? Did they seriously wait especially to monitor how long it would take you to make use of your powers? Did they have cameras installed-

“Mr. Stedman is expecting you. You will find a fresh set of clothes in your nightstand.” a woman announced. She had the voice of an answering machine. You found it kind of funny, given that it absolutely fitted precisely the stereotypical group you had categorized these people in.

Opening the drawer, you found a pair of grey sweatpants, on top of them sitting a neatly folded black t-shirt.

“A pretty suggestive uniform” you thought to yourself, figuring that they were planning on testing the extent of your powers. If that were true, you decided to take your time getting ready; the shower looked too inviting. Once again, your peace was disturbed by a sudden wave of sorrow, but you quickly pushed the dark thoughts away, trusting yourself to keep these feelings guarded once and for all.

******

“I gathered you would at least serve your prisoners breakfast,” You half-jokingly said, announcing your entrance to Cecil and Donald.

“Well, kid, I’m sorry to inform you but it’s way past breakfast. You slept like a rock; it’s noon.”

You took a quick glance around, the white-painted room resembled a training gym. Actually no, it resembled absolutely nothing, since the place was completely empty. That was just your mind quietly trying to compensate the fear of unknown by convincing yourself that the two agents were just going to test and see for themselves how your super abilities work. Right?

“I promise you’ll be served a hot meal after this training session.” Donald stated, his eyes sympathetic behind thick glasses.

You left out a sigh of relief, careful for the two men not to notice, because it would blow the facade of confidence you tried to project. But to be realistic, it was clearly a fake show since the day before, when you had begged for their mercy. Rookie mistake.

“Just do what you know best.” Cecil declared, before both him and Donald took a step back.

Before you could mimic any gesture, a zombie looking man with a metallic body appeared out of thin air, lounging towards you at full speed. It, or he, looked like a living corpse; the flesh of this thing, or what was left of it, was in a decaying state and the rest of his members looked fully mechanic.

“What the actual fuck is that?” you muttered under your breath, a wave of blue shimmer already embracing your figure. You effortlessly dodged the creature’s punch by vanishing and reappearing behind it, landing a kick behind its knees, ultimately destabilizing the part human-part machine silhouette. Then again, you teleported straightaway above the creature’s head, giving it no time response from the previous hit, managing to send it to the ground with a painful thud. You blinked once again, swinging your fist to strike the metal monster one last time, feeling the cold exposed flesh of its chest.

Your eyes settled on the two agents, who had been studying your every move in silence, seeking some kind of approval from either of them. Instead, three more of the same metallic zombies appeared as suddenly as the first one, clearly aiming for you.

Already panting a bit, your eyes flickered between the wrecking machines, hungry for your blood. You tried not to panic; it was definitely not your first rodeo when it came to fighting, but you felt an immense need to prove yourself worthy. So, you reminded yourself that remaining calm was vital in this situation. You waited, and then blinked behind the closest one, slamming your elbow in the back of his head as hard as you possibly could. The impact with the rigid metal protecting the brute’s cranium sent sharp jolts through your body, but the sound of the creature hitting the ground gave you a bit of self-assurance, even though you knew the blow was for sure not enough to keep it down for good.

You were well aware that it would be impossible for someone of your stature to manage to defeat these monsters by force, so you decided that tricking them would be the only logical solution. You waited for them to come crashing at you, only to dodge the punches by disappearing at the last moment and reappearing behind them. Despite your best efforts to try and use their strength against them, the metallic beasts landed more and more hits everywhere, leaving you painfully bruised all over.

Only a mere second of distraction cost you immensely- the brute you had previously knocked out was now back on its feet without you even noticing. Out of the blue, your face slammed against the ground, and despite the loud ringing in both of your ears, you could hear Cecil shout demandingly:

“Okay, That’ s enough!”

Immediately, the mechanical living corpses backed off, and you could finally stand up. Wiping your hand against your mouth, your skin was met with dark blood, instantly feeling the taste of the same crimson liquid on your tongue. You felt ashamed of your performance, but judging by the looks of the two agents, disappointment was not what could be read off their expressions.

“You did good, kid.” Cecil spoke.

“Much better than we had expected.” continued Donald.

Well, that was surprising. Your heartbeat regained its somewhat normal rhythm, hearing words of encouragement. You left out a shaky breath, feeling your knees simultaneously give out. You took a seat on the ground, wincing with every move.

“What the hell were those things?” you finally asked, pointing towards the now still beasts, as if it were not obvious who, or what, you were referring to.

“They are called ReAnimen. They are reconstructed bodies of dead soldiers serving their country one last time. You weren’t meant to destroy or defeat them, that was not the purpose of this exercise.”

“So, what was the purpose of me fighting those things? you asked, a bit puzzled.

“Our target was to see if you would fit in.” Cecil asserted in the same steady tone. “See, our world is much more different than what you told us yours was like. Here, Omniman did not take over the world and definitely did not kill his son as it happened in your timeline.”

Donald then proceeded to project a multitude of footage, Cecil concomitantly explaining to you the recent history of this current world, making sure you grasp every little detail. Everything was so different- but what had made Omniman change his mind?

After presenting that part of the story, Cecil changed the subject, describing now what a superhero’s role was in this twisted world. He outlined the fact that there were many teams consisting of people with diverse supernatural abilities, some more useful than others, but all fighting for the same purpose: trying to defend Earth and its citizens against oncoming threats. Despite this, there was a team whose members were only elite superheroes: The Guardians Of The Globe. It was a privilege to be part of it, an honor every hero sought to achieve during their active years, and Cecil wanted you to become a member.

You fought a sincere smile. You had been here for what, not even 48 hours, and your abilities were already recognized by the government and considered promising enough to put you on the best superhero team on the planet? It was the first time you felt truly appreciated for what you were, for what you had made countless efforts to accomplish; from learning how to use your powers all on your own to being asked to use them for greater good. Yes, you still had a lot to find out about the extent of your abilities, but you quickly understood that these were the people who were going to help you achieve your full potential.

“Yes, I’d really like that” and a bright smile formed on your face, despite your efforts not to get giddy, the soreness of your muscles gone for just this sweet moment.

“Then it’s done. Welcome to The Guardians Of The Globe, kid.” Cecil stretched his arm and the two of you shared a firm handshake, repeating the gesture with Donald as well.

******

The next two and a half weeks passed in a blur. You still had not been officially placed on The Guardians, since Cecil wanted you to stay just a little longer at the Pentagon, for “observation”. You knew that was his job, you constantly reminded yourself that he held no personal grudge against you, but he still had to ensure that you did not represent a threat. You were not a prisoner; the agents had made that very clear. Nonetheless, with every day and night passing, and you still being stuck in that imposing building, you were questioning Cecil’s intentions, since he appeared the only one in charge of your fate. The idea of teleporting yourself out and running off, maybe even reappearing in the Guardians HQ (you had absolutely no clue where it was located) had become a recurring, almost obsessive thought. Trusting others was certainly not on your list of moral principles; the world you came from had taught you that it was naive to do so. However, these people, these strangers, that were employed by the government to protect Earth, were determined to give you a chance, which also implied believing your words. So, you tried your best on any occasion, through any means, to prove it beyond doubt that you were who you said you were. That your story was not a work of fiction, but the naked ugly truth.

You had a high opinion of Cecil- he was the embodiment of self-control. Sure, during your stay you had heard a lot of swearing and yelling from his counterpart, but each time his tone shifted back to normal in seconds, and to be fair, each outburst could be excused by the tight corners he always found himself in. Cecil’s face never betrayed any doubt, not even a flicker of hesitation in his actions. His steady gaze suggested that he always knew what you were reflecting on, who you were thinking about or what your next mistake that he would eventually need to fix was going to be. It was a personal target of yours to gain even an ounce of his respect.

You had already been introduced to some kind of routine, which you’d be lying if you said you didn’t take joy in. The training each morning gave you a sense of belonging; now you were learning how to fight better in order to secure the wellbeing of others, not yourself. You associated afternoons with hot meals and long talks with Donald. Slowly, he had put you up to date with a lot of aspects of this new world, answering even your most stupid questions. You learned what the Global Defense Agency was and who The Guardians Of The Globe were. Donald described thoroughly Invincible and Ominman’s fierce battle, revealing that they were actually father and son- instantly making the story even more twisted. It was hard to believe you had gone this long without being aware of such a crucial detail. Donald had also provided you with an earpiece, emphasizing the fact that when you were called via it, it was compulsory for you to immediately report to duty.

Then, the fun part came around: you needed a proper costume. Cecil and you flew (you insisted on taking the jet instead of teleporting there because you badly wanted to catch a glimpse of the city) to Art Rosenbaum’s tailor shop, a place dedicated to manufacturing custom attire for superheroes. At first, you found it hard to believe that such a place was real. Soon, your expectations were exceeded. Art had kind eyes and undisputable talent. He took your measurements quickly and in no time both of you landed on a design sculpted for mobility.

 Your brand-new attire was handed to you the very next morning: the costume was a blend of mostly pitch black and vivid streaks of cobalt, meant to be a reference to the electric blue you emanated when using your powers. It hugged your figure closely, you could say even perfectly. You had opted for no sleeves and long pants, paired with combat boots. The fingerless gloves were also a nice touch you had specifically requested. Art had added a mask as well, meant to help you keep your identity secret. You aimlessly played with it, weighing up the fact that the mask was pretty much useless in your case: you were no one here, you didn’t have anything to hide. You had no family. You didn’t own a house, a car, not even a dog. Hell, if you gave it a second thought, you had absolutely no object to your name; even your clothes were inscribed with the GDA logo. Maybe sometime in the future, being alone would become an advantage. But right now, you just felt pathetic.

You tossed the mask to the ground, along with the dark, painful realization you had come to.  Opening the door, you headed to yet another training session, but now in full superhero gear.