"I want to sit down and reconnect, tho," grumbled Writer's Block Person, zipping up their coat a bit higher.

"You gotta keep up your momentum in the fight against seasonal depression, yo," said Whisperion, using her staff as a walking stick. "Keep active and keep going. Besides, we need to walk at least twenty-five kilometers this week if we want to hatch all those eggs before the Hackemon GO event ends."

"Oooooh, this one's a shiny Bulbas.org... hm?" They looked up. A bit further up the trail, there was a man sitting on a bench. He seemed to be wearing an old gray hoodie, with the hood up, blue jeans and muddy sneakers; but over that, a sleek, expensive-looking tailcoat, elegantly tailored with a tapered waist and gold buttons, the tails dragging in the mud. His eyes weren't visible, but by the bits of chin and mouth they could see, he was unshaven and pale.

But what had really gotten their attention was that Writer's Block Person's queerplatonic partner, Gives Hugs Impetuously Lass, AKA Amethyst "Amy" Allenby, was stepping up next to him. "Pardon me, sir?"

"...yes?" His voice was hoarse, heavy, tired; a voice that had once shouted in triumph, but was laden down into the lower octaves by the weight of the world.

She bounced in place in her big puffy purple coat. "Sorry if this is too forward, but you really look like you need a hug!"

The edges of the man's mouth curved up, against the weight of his woes. "Thank you... but I don't deserve one." His head rose, and he looked at Writer's Block Person - eyes glowing green! "Not until I do penance for my sins."

"Uh," said Writer's Block Person, taking a step back.

"Ominous AF," murmured Whisperion, planting her staff in front of her, drawing on the strength of the earth.

The man swept his coat back, revealing an ornate golden belt buckle, with a section of ivory piano keys that were missing their middle C. Out of his pocket, without taking his eyes off Writer's Block Person, he pulled a red key with the word "Classic" written on it in gold, in a swooping, curving font. He slotted it into middle C, and played a few notes - the "dun dun dun duuuun" from Beethoven's 5th.

A deep, bombastic voice echoed thru the park's hills and valleys. "Music! Usenet! Heroes by the score! Burst Beetle Classical!"

Sheet music staves in scintillating red light swirled around the man's body, wrapping him in a cocoon of glowing music. As soon as it had surrounded him, the cocoon burst, revealing deep red armor, long black gloves and boots, and a shimmering version of the same tailcoat, whose material seemed to move with extra, armored weight, and whose arms and legs featured deep red sheet music staves. The eyes of his helmet were quarter-notes, stems crossed to form a V on his forehead, and flowing over the top of his head and down the back was a wig of wild white hair a la Beethoven.

"...I still stand by my statement of hug-needing," said Amy, crossing her arms.

"Burst Beetle Classical!" said Writer's Block Person, taking another step back in shock. "I remember him! He was active a couple years ago, fighting the Baroque Phantoms!"

"Oh, yeah..." said Whisperion, brow knitting. "There were a lot of toys, right?"

"Yeah, he licensed his image a lot. Toys, games, suchlike... I've got the Original Adventure Sountrack they put out, it's got a lot of good stuff." Writer's Block Person squeezed their fist. "But he disappeared after a while. I heard he defeated the boss of the Phantoms... wonder what he's been up to?"

The opening of Mozart's Symphony No. 40 in G Minor played as Burst Beetle Classical cracked his knuckles. "Listen to the division of the violas," he murmured, lifting his arm. His finger snapped to point at Writer's Block Person as he shouted, "Their dark harmony shouts at you to repent!"

"Getting mad at you, looks like!" Whisperion lifted her staff off the ground, brought it up in a defensive position. "Might wanna transform!"

"Oh, right! HENSHINSPIRATION!" In a burst of sparkles, Writer's Block Person snapped into their default heroic form. "Lemme step in front, I should talk to him!"

"His eyes are still glowing!" called Amy, waving. "Do the hearty thing!"

"Yeah, precautions first, unlike the last seven times," snarked Whisperion, still in position.

"Eighth time's the charm! EMOTICONVERSION! CODE POINT HEAVY BLACK HEART!" A giant CGI heart appeared in front of Writer's Block Person, slamming into them and shifting their form into the one with the big heart-shaped gem on the chest, able to dispel dark magic and mental control.

"That's it..." murmured Burst Beetle Classical, glowing green eyes watching the updated transformation. "The sins of past generations... greater and heavier than ever! How dare you follow in my footsteps!" He took a deep breath and bellowed, "How dare you!" 

"Hey--" Writer's Block Person held their hands up in the air and pushed words out of their mouth as quickly as they could. "can-you-explain-what-you-mean-before-trying-to--"

But another key was already in Burst Beetle Classical's hand, a black key with a red, white and blue sword on it. He slammed it into place, playing a few notes of a funk beat based on 1980s action-drama TV soundtracks. 

The belt announced in its deep, sonorous voice, "Badass! Kick ass! Number one! Ultimate Ninja, fight on all!" A whirl of glowing cloth burst from the belt, becoming a bright orange tailcoat with black music staves. It flew around Burst Beetle Classical and dove into him from behind, replacing his coat in a burst of light, a red, white and blue headband forming around his helmet with the characters for "shinobi" embroidered in black.

Burst Beetle Classical pulled a katana out and held it horizontally, announcing, "Ninja arts! Hidden motion!" before disappearing in a blur.

"...beat me up." Writer's Block Person sighed. "I mean. It'll work someday."

"Where did he go?" Whisperion spun around, staff at the ready, no idea where to point it.

"Quick, Drew, switch to a combat-y form!" yelled Amy, waving her hand.

"Well, there's Skull With Cool Sunglasses, but I'm not really angry right now, just confu--" KCHAM! A sword slashed across WBP's back, and they shouted, sparks rising up, and fell forward! Burst Beetle Classical stood behind them, katana ready for another strike!

"There!" Whisperion leapt forward, and brought down her staff!

"Ninja arts! Substitution!" When the staff connected, a burst of smoke flew up - and when the smoke cleared, the figure in front of Whisperion was nothing but a log!

"...waitasec!" Amy extended her somebody-needs-a-hug senses to the fullest! "THERE!" She leapt and wrapped a seemingly ordinary forest log in her arms - and in a poof, said log transformed into a be-huggled Burst Beetle Classical, trying to squirm away but slowed down by his own need for human contact!

"A-hah!" Writer's Block Person pushed themself upright and spread their arms! A corcusating beam of energy blasted from their gem, pink hearts slamming into Burst Beetle Classical - and bouncing off!

Amy strained, eyes shut tight in concentration. "I can feel at... the energy of connection is being deflected... by his own guilt!!"

The glow in Burst Beetle Classical's eyes flared, and a wave of green energy, well, burst from his body, throwing Amy, WBP, and Whisperion back. The Ultimate Ninja key floated up out of his belt, orange tailcoat dissolving into black, and he contemptuously grabbed it out of the air. 

With his other hand, Burst Beetle Classical pulled out a black key with an LCD-green edge, with the letters "ESC" written at the top in the same color. He slammed it into place and played the first few notes of Burly Brawl.

"Caffeine! Keyboards! Hack the planet!" announced the belt. "You're the ultimate Renegade Programmer!" A black tailcoat covered in flowing patterns of bright green musical notes flew out of the belt and flew around, merging with him in another burst of light, and a glowing green beard grew out of the chin of his helmet.

"For the luvva..." Whisperion pulled herself up on her staff, giving Writer's Block Person a hand up. 

She sent healing, empowering energy into their body, and they shook themself out. "Never good at these multi-stage RPG bosses," they said, getting into a defensive pose.

"That's why you need to level up your healer," Whisperion grinned, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Was that innuendo, or--"

Burst Beetle Classical thrust his hands into the air, and glowing holographic keyboards appeared in front of them. "Moby hack!" he shouted. "Fork bomb!" 

"--oh right the fighting"

Glowing green forks appeared in the air, zooming forward before stopping and exploding into twice as many forks, which zoomed and exploded into twice more, creating a Touhou-esque pattern that sent Writer's Block Person and Whisperion dodging. Whisperion spun her staff, knocking forks out of the air, and--

"Wait, wait!" shouted Amy. "Hang on a sec!" She pointed to a happy couple, walking thru the late-autumn leaves with a bouncing, joyful puppy.

The forks froze in midair, as did the net.heroes. The puppy barked and scampered around their ankles until the couple gently tugged him away. "Thank you!" they called.

"Do not mention it," rumbled Burst Beetle Classical. Then the forks burst back into motion!

Writer's Block Person and Whisperion rolled to the sides, dodging and darting, making their way thru the field of forks. They were almost there when Burst Beetle Classical slammed his hands dramatically down on the keyboards, producing a sonorous piano chord. "Moby hack!" he proclaimed. "Magic smoke!" A mouth opened on his helmet, and glowing green smoke poured out, wrapping around the two net.heroes, holding them tight despite their struggles! 

Burst Beetle Classical stepped forward, smoke swirling around, deadly intent focused on the two of them--

--which left him open to a hug from Amy! As her compassionate touch took hold, his deadly intent dissipated along with the smoke!

Writer's Block Person said "Right!" Whisperion put a hand on their back, pouring energy into them, and their heart-beam blasted out, enwrapping Burst Beetle Classical with charged-up love energy, hearts bouncing off but digging into his emotional walls nonetheless!

"Sir!" shouted Amy, holding Burst Beetle Classical tight. "Please, what's wrong? We want to help!"

He struggled, eyes flaring... but a deep, sad voice boomed out from behind his helmet... "My mission was one of justice, of stopping the powers that sought to bring back the great empires of the past! But I gave in to the great empires of the present when I sold my image!" His voice raised in anger. "On this, this--" Venom and loathing coated his tongue! "This shopping holiday, parents buy their children mass-produced toys of me, games, roleplay accessories - and lock them into a toxic symbiosis with great corporations who do not truly care about them, who will make toys simply to push dopamine buttons for dollars!" Smoky green energy seemed to swirl around him, nearly obscuring his form as a violent hum rose in the background.

"Sugar honey iced tea!" swore (?) Amy, flinching back, still trying to hold tight. "His rage is boiling!"

"Okay," said Writer's Block Person, squinting over the brightness of their beam, "but why are you attacking me!?"

Burst Beetle Classical snarled. "You, who gladly took on the mantle of 'toyetic'! You, who recycle all those little tricks that the corporations use, the flash and bang that takes over young brains!"

"Criminy!" Amy leapt back, rubbing her arms.

"You took this on knowing... YOU ARE MY ENEMY!" A huge glowing column of green light burst out of Burst Beetle Classical, shooting up into the sky. 

When it faded, he was floating in the air, his original outfit rimmed with crackling green flames, head down, limbs hanging like a marionette. Fifteen or so keys floated in the air in a circle around his body, and one by one, each of them zoomed into the belt, hitting it with a green flash, the flames leaping higher with each one. When they had all zoomed in and Burst Beetle Classical's body was consumed by the flames, the belt's voice boomed out again, but crackling and warped. "Classically corrupted! Classically chaos!"

The flames grew into a ball of fire twice the size of his body before bursting. When Burst Beetle Classical's form was revealed, he was standing up perfectly straight, toes pointed downwards. The tails of his black coat were enormous, barely above the ground despite his toetips being above Writer's Block Person's head. His armor was covered in Cover Gallery covers, but they seemed to flicker and glitch constantly. There was an exaggeratedly long conductor's baton in his hand, a flickering green flame at the tip. His wig was a constantly burning green flame, and sitting in the V on his forehead was a portrait of the planet Neme.sys. The belt finished, "Size Of The Entire Death Universe Man!"

"Holy crap!" said Writer's Block Person.

"Oh no..." muttered whisperion.

Amy sighed and shook her head. "Rassum frackum emotional armor..." She pulled out her cell phone and started dialing.

"Legion Death Together!" Burst Beetle Classical swung his baton in the air dramatically before bringing it down. "Peril Room Test of Doom!" A circle of glowing green katanas appeared around him, slicing and spinning towards our heroes!

"For pete's sake!" Whisperion spun her staff, knocking three away at once, dodging and rolling! "I sure hope you're feeling sufficiently active and connected right now, Drew!"

"Are you kiddin', we're missing a raid!" Writer's Block Person grinned and released a beam of pink light, shattering the swords made of negative energy! "But I don't feel depressed!"

"YOU DARE PLAY GAMES WITH MY RAGE!?" The swords froze in midair, every single one of them converging on Writer's Block Person!

"HECK!!" They tried to spin and dodge, but blades of anger cut across their armor, raising sparks and plumes of smoke! They spun and fell!

"Crap!" Whisperion ran over to Writer's Block Person's prone, smoking form, standing over them with her staff raised. "Are you okay?"

"well..." Writer's Block Person coughed. "not the best..."

Burst Beetle Classical let out a deep, rich, bitter chuckle, like a bar of single-source dark chocolate. "And now... the coda of your corruptive movement." He raised the flaming end of his baton in the air. "Legion Death Together! Twenty-Seven-on-One Strike!" 

There was a dramatic viola cord, and out of the ground around Writer's Block Person and Whisperion, ghosts rose up; the glowing, green, glitching ghosts of nameless net.heroes, who had never appeared in any roster, whose origins had been lost to time, disappearing in the entropic deaths of ancient newsgroups!

The faded figures positioned themselves, as if in the middle of a jumping kick, soles positioned to strike Writer's Block Person and Whisperion full force! Burst Beetle Classical readied his baton, readied to bring it down and send the colossal contingent of confabulated net.heroes crashing down on them!

And then...

"Boom! Bkoom!"

"Rarr! Raerr!"

Burst Beetle Classical turned towards the cliff overlooking the battle. There - a movie screen with big speakers on either side, and a digital projector playing a video - a video of - toys!

On the screen was an action figure of Burst Beetle Classical, shot from close-up on what was clearly a phone propped up on something. Next to it was a figure of Burst Beetle Galant, his former partner in heroism. Two hands held rubber dinosaurs, which crashed into the action figures, knocking them down.

"Boom!" said a young, feminine voice from above. "Bam! Oh no!" The hands put down the dinosaurs and wiggled Classical back and forth. "We've been defeated by the defeatasaurs! If only someone could help us!"

"I can do it!" said the same voice but trying to sound deep and dramatic. A hand came in holding a fashion doll but with pieces of purple armor and a cape stuck on with scotch tape, plus a wide-brimmed red fedora; she had a lazer gun taped to one hand and a magic wand taped to the other.

"Miss Ultra Ultimate!" wiggled the Galant figure. "You've come to save us!"

"That's right! Ultimaaaaaate... kiiiiick!" The fashion doll's legs smacked into the dinosaurs, which topped to the sides after a couple smacks.

The hands stood the Burst Beetles back up. "Wow!" said the Classical figure, bouncing up and down. "You're so beautiful, brave and smart~!"

"Nothing to it, citizen! Let's go save the city... together!" Miss Ultra Ultimate and the Burst Beetles bounced offscreen, and a face lowered into frame, young and enthusiastic, a girl framed by floofy ringlets. "Tune in next time for the further adventures of Miss Ultra Ultimate and friends!" A hand came around, fumbling a moment, and the screen went blank.

Burst Beetle Classical stared at the screen. In the background, the phantom net.heroes dissolved into wisps of emerald fog. "Is..." He shook his head, tossing his baton to the side, running his fingers thru his flaming wig. "I'm sorry, but is this supposed to change my mind? This--" He gestured at the screen, hand out, trying to banish it. "This girl's been, been taken in, just like everyone else!"

"hey can you... yeah thanks..." Whisperion helped Writer's Block Person to their feet, and they clambered up on top of a handy boulder, gesturing grandly so their cape flapped out in the air. "If you think the dreams of children don't matter..." They pointed an accusing finger at Burst Beetle Classical. "Then you're the one who's been taken in!"

"What!?" Classical fell to the ground, stumbling in a defensive position, head whipping back and forth, body language shaken.

"psst here you go," whispered Writer's Block Person to Whisperion.

"Oh! Right, yeah!" She stood up straight, planting the butt of her staff in the ground and pointing at Burst Beetle Classical. "Fun and play, emotion and investment - these are things created by people, not corporations! And toys are their tools to create it!"

Writer's Block Person raised their fists in the air, clenching dramatically. "We who try to stand outside as the system as much as we can-- we walk in your footsteps, so that we may connect your path to ours!"

"Jeez finally!" came a voice from above Burst Beetle Classical. He looked up, and Amy was standing on the tree branches above him! She pointed down, straight into his soul! "You were another source of labor, exploited by capitalism, and your labor was and is wonderful silliness! You are worth it!!"

Burst Beetle Classical put his hands on his head. The green flames, on his wig, on his costume, leapt high - then froze, glowing glass sculptures - then, in an instant - shattered!

"FINALLY!" Writer's Block Person let loose their biggest blast of soulful energy yet, red and pink hearts sparkling as they slammed into Burst Beetle Classical's form! They hit a wall of green energy and pushed it back, peeling it away, Classical no longer holding on-- inch by inch, pushing back-- then a POP!

Burst Beetle Classical fell to the ground, detransformed, and above him, a green, crystalline sphere shimmered into existence!

"Something else?!" said Whisperion, raising her staff and pointing it at the sphere.

"That must be what was pumping that resentful energy into his body!" Amy ran over to Burst Beetle Classical's prone form, pulling him into a protective hug.

"...fbwuh," said Classical, shaking his head. "what... oh." His head lolled back as the memories struck him. "of course... when I felt my frustrations, my anxieties, my scrupulous need to fix things leaping up, overpowering me... it was... him..."

"Who?" said Writer's Block Person, in a defensive pose, gem steaming slightly in the cold late-November air.

"Meeeee," rumbled a deep voice in a minor key. Out of the green globe, a form made of emerald energy rose; a humanoid, with long, clawed fingers, winkled skin, wearing an ornate outfit, with the sphere in the center of his chest. "The last general of the Baroque Phantoms... General Rococonqueror!!"

"...uuuuuugh," said Writer's Block Person, crossing their arms. "Come on, man. You're defeated! All your other dudes were defeated long ago! We've already talked this guy down, you should see reason and join the side of kindness and empathy too!"

"Ha ha ha, never!" Green lightning sparkled from General Rococonqueror's fingertips. "Fools, you have not stopped me from bringing about the resurrection of Lord Trentula!"

"Uuuuuuugh!" shouted Writer's Block Person, stamping their foot. "That's so frustrating!!"

Whisperion put her hand on Writer's Block Person's shoulder. "You know, you do plenty of talk-people-to-a-good place stories. Just like toys are fun, it's also okay to have a fun, combat-y ending sometimes too."

They sighed and smiled under their helmet. "I guess."

"I... agree!" Burst Beetle Classical took a deep breath and pushed himself to a kneel, drawing strength from Amy's powerful embrace. "You've reminded me.. that a man is more... than a miserable pile... of duties!" He pulled another key out of his coat, this one bright green with a puppy joyously leaping along its length. "Music is joy... and I'll bring joy... to the world!" He slammed the key into middle C, and tapped out notes with deliberation.

Whisperion listened to the music and murmured, "Chest-nuts roasting on an open fire~"

Whirling cloth burst from the belt, a rich red tailcoat with fuzzy white trim flying about and slamming into Burst Beetle Classical. When the light cleared, Classical wore white armor with black spots, and black gloves and boots with white spots. To the sides of his helmet were a pair of floppy, fuzzy ears. The belt's sonorous voice announced, "Miracles! Magic! Ho-ho-ho! Caulflower the Christmas Miracle Pooch, go!"

"And now..." Burst Beetle Classical spread his arms, and from his belt, three globes of golden energy zoomed out, stopping in front of Whisperion, Amy, and Writer's Block Person. "New toys for all!"

"Oh, thank you so much!" Amy spread her arms and wrapped them around the globe. It flared with light, and when the light faded, Amy was wearing a rust-red dog kigurumi, with a cute hood with floppy ears, and a comfy, cable-knit green sweater with a pattern of pit maltadoodles jumping and playing on it. She wore a pair of elbow-length padded huggling gloves, and a pair of chunky, toyetic red boots.

"Huh, rad!" Whisperion touched her staff to the globe, and it flared. When the light faded, Whisperion was wearing golden armor, trimmed in silver, with heraldric dogs facing each other in green on her breastplate. Her cape had become gold and silver, layers of feathers overlapping one another, and she wore chunky, toyetic golden boots.

"Heck yeah, new transformation time!" The globe flew to the gem on Writer's Block Person's chest and flared. When the light faded, the gem was shaped like an evergreen tree. They wore green armor with a red bodysuit underneath (printed with a pattern of Christmas lights), gold trim, and a pair of chunky, toyetic green boots.

"FOOLS!" General Rococonqueror pumped both fists, a spinning aura of green flame manifesting around him. "That pathetic plinkerer's tinkly tricks won't work anymore! I'm four times more powerful than you once knew me, Classical!"

"That sounds just about right, then!" Burst Beetle Classical pulled out his baton and dramatically twirled its end. "Everybody! Compass formation!"

Amy drew back to the west of the monster, Whisperion to the east, Writer's Block Person to the south. Burst Beetle Classical stood to the north, and raised his baton high. All four pairs of boots began glowing with gold and silver sparks, and their wearers began to float into the air.

"omg I've never flown before," murmured Amy, eyes sparkling.

"It's always amazing," said Whisperion, grinning from ear to ear.

"But this is gonna be even better!" said Writer's Block Person, posing in midair.

"Bah! AND BAH AGAIN!" General Rococonqueror shook his fists at Burst Beetle Classical. "This fruitless joy you've found is meaningless! This toxic world--" He reared back one of those fists, a fireball wrapping around it. "Will ever overcome you!!" He whipped his fist forward, the fireball bursting out!

A tiny flick of his baton, and Burst Beetle Classical flicked the fireball away! "Perhaps! But they've reminded me - the battle is worth fighting anyway!" He raised both hands in the air, and each hero's left boot flared with gold and silver light, as they floated up above General Rococonqueror! "Let's crescendo!! Speak the words in your heart!"

In perfect sync, Amy, Whisperion, and Writer's Block Person shouted, "QUADRUPLE MIRACLE KICK!"

Burst Beetle Classical brought his hands down! Each of their left feet sliced thru the air, perfect jump kicks coming together in a pyrotechnic detonation of light!

When the light faded, they landed on the ground, one by one, in easy, relaxed positions, facing away from the center. And inbetween them landed the green crystal globe, steaming with energy.

"...whew," said Burst Beetle Classical, turning around and picking up the globe. He took a silver quarter-note from his belt and touched it to the globe, and little silver music staves wrapped around it, locking it up tight. "Thank you. I had become lost, and... I lashed out, in what I thought was righteousness, but was in fact thoughtless fear."

"We've all been there," said Writer's Block Person. "That's how we know how to pull each other out." They extended a hand, and Burst Beetle Classical shook it.

"So, Amy," said Whisperion, "why were you out here in the first place?"

"Oh!" Amy pounded her fist into her hand. "That's right! There's a Hackemon GO raid happening down at the other entrance to the park, in..." She looked at her phone. "Seven minutes!"

"Oh crap!" Writer's Block Person detransformed and started running down the lane. "C'mon, let's hurry!"

"Uh," said Burst Beetle Classical, following. "I don't know what that is."

"That's okay!" Amy took his hand and pulled him along. "Let's go have fun!"

Fearless Leader sat behind a reading desk, the Public Defender sitting next to him with a stack of forms. A line of costumed newbies stretched out in front of him. Just another day on the job. 

There had been so many members that he had once considered - in his own thoughts, or to his closest confidants - to be a burden on the Legion. Constantly-Loses-Things Lad. Manga Girl. Ultimate Mercenary. C'mon. Fire Extinguisher Lass. But in the end, all of them had played vital and important roles in safeguarding the world and its people, stepping up to the task and proving themselves worthy.

Well. Maybe not C'mon.

Still, the lesson was firm in his mind. No potential member should be rejected simply because of having "silly" powers, or being inexperienced, or awkward, or "annoying". One and all, they deserved a chance to shine.

The next applicant stepped forward, a teenage East Asian lady with a stylish sidecut, wearing a red skirt, white tights, a red vest over a white long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of red sneakers.

"And your name, ma'am?" asked Fearless Leader.

The prospective net.hero took a deep breath. "I-Can't-Believe-I-Died-and-Was-Reincarnated-in-Another-Universe-as-a-Net.hero-When-My-Only-Talent-Is-Making-Up-Excessively-Detailed-Plans-for-How-to-Improve-Society Lass." She gave Fearless Leader a winning smile.

Fearless Leader licked his lips.

Fearless Leader drummed his fingers on the table.

Fearless Leader blew a breath out his nose, and nodded. "Thank you, ma'am. Public Defender, could you please take down her personal information? I'll just be one moment in the soundproof reading nook."

Public Defender nodded and pulled a form off the stack. "So, which of those words weren't capitalized?"

"And, in, as, a, for, to."

"Right..." Public Defender wrote down all one-hundred-and-sixty-nine characters of I-Can't-Believe-I-Died-and-Was-Reincarnated-in-Another-Universe-as-a-Net.hero-When-My-Only-Talent-Is-Making-Up-Excessively-Detailed-Plans-for-How-to-Improve-Society Lass's name in neatly printed letters.

"Hey," said I-Can't-Believe-I-Died-and-Was-Reincarnated-in-Another-Universe-as-a-Net.hero-When-My-Only-Talent-Is-Making-Up-Excessively-Detailed-Plans-for-How-to-Improve-Society Lass, "do you hear that? Sort of like... someone a long distance away, screaming into the void about how silly and ridiculous his life has become?"

"That's just the pipes. Is there a shorter form of your name for ease of narration?"

"Oh, uh..." I-Can't-Believe-I-Died-and-Was-Reincarnated-in-Another-Universe-as-a-Net.hero-When-My-Only-Talent-Is-Making-Up-Excessively-Detailed-Plans-for-How-to-Improve-Society Lass thought for a moment. "Do you have a Reincarnated Lass?"

"Not under that name, tho you may want to have a chat with Otherkin Lad sometime soon." Public Defender took Reincarnated Lass's date of birth, contact information, summary of powers (basically as her name implied), weaknesses she was comfortable revealing, and capsule backstory, and stamped the form, pulling a stub off the bottom. "Here's your receipt, and since we don't have the Peril Room available, Nerf Girl will be conducting the trial-by-fire. Down that hall, to the right. Hope you survive the experience!"

Reincarnated Lass headed off, and Fearless Leader returned to the table. He adjusted his collar, wiped his brow, and sat down. 

One and all, they deserved a chance to shine, and it was his duty to make sure they got that chance. No matter how silly it got.

Kid Review slipped into place beside them, putting their arms around them, and Writer's Block Person laid their head on their shoulder. The two of them sat there, breathing, being warm in the moonlight. Kid Review felt the shape in their arms bit by bit soften, the tension relaxing out of Writer's Block Person's body.

After a few minutes, Kid Review asked, "Do you want to talk?"

"Mmm."

Kid Review didn't press it, and Writer's Block Person closed their eyes, nuzzling into them, breath evening out. After a minute, they opened their eyes. "So..."

"Yeah?" said Kid Review.

"I had a team-up today."

"Yeah?" they said again, making space for the words to come.

"With a guy from the Cooperative Community."

"Ohhh... I kind of remember them."

"Yeah, they're..." Writer's Block Person sat up, pulling the details into their mind. "They're this sort of... anarchist commune who, like, have this really good-sounding list of principles they follow, about supporting each other's happiness, and self-expression, and ability to do the things they feel driven to do, and such..." They took a deep breath, let it out. "And... they have these brain interface devices that are supposed to help with that, like... they reinforce those thoughts, like, reinforce the principles that they're all supposed to follow in their brains, and I guess make it easier to think about support and, I guess, friend love, and stuff. And like, they're supposed to help release petty anger, and they also smooth out, like, anxiety and depression and such. And they all, like... get them updated all the time..." They shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah."

"Gotcha..." Kid Review was starting to have a sneaking suspicion of what the problem was. "So... what's up?"

Writer's Block Person took another breath, in and out, sat up and adjusted themself. "To be honest? They freak me out."

Yeah, that was it. "Yeah?"

"Like... I think I managed to not show it to the guy I was teaming up with. He had... like, water powers? And he seemed real nice and everything. Didn't, like, ask me to join, was friendly, we traded contact info for future team-ups."

Kid Review nodded. "But?"

"But like... the entire idea of... having your brain hardware written to by a big organization of other people, where you can't know every single one of them intimately..." Writer's Block Person swallowed, rubbed their chest. "Feels intensely, vibrantly, burningly wrong."

Kid Review put their arms back around Writer's Block Person and squeezed them, and they sighed. 

"Like..." Writer's Block Person stopped, and thought quietly for a minute, and Kid Review let them. "You remember that one part in Men in Black? 'A person is smart, people are dangerous panicky animals?'"

"Yeah?"

"I hate that line so much." Writer's Block Person shook their head, hard. "It's thoughtless and cynical and fake deep, it's a fucking... justification for government agents, who are our heroes by the way, to lie to the public and take away their agency on a massive fundamental level. It's stupid and..." They took a deep, shuddering breath. "And I'm supposed to be better than thinking that way but I can't... I can trust a person but it's so hard to trust people, to not, like... think of them as..." Their fists clenched, and Kid Review could feel the tension in their back. "Waiting to be taken over by greedy and awful manipulators."

Writer's Block Person took a deep breath and the words gushed out like a river in the first spring thaw. "I'm super scared of giving my agency away to any group where I can't see the faces and know the names of every single person in it, because the person I don't know is going to be just another of these fucking gray-faced assholes who wants to hollow me out, drain me dry, take away... take away everything I've made myself into and more. Take away my ability to feel pleasure, to experience joy or happiness of any kind, and just... grind me away as some kind of meaningless useless sin-eater, some stupid puppet for assholes to reflect their own anxiety onto and beat down until doomsday." And their voice was shaky and their breath hitched, and suddenly they were crying, big, sobbing tears.

"Oh, hon..." Kid Review turned Writer's Block Person's face into their chest, letting them cry, petting their hair, stroking gently down their head and back. When it seemed like the flow was slowing, they snuggled Writer's Block Person back into their chest, pressing their fingertips into the back of their loved one's neck, rubbing softly. "Hey. It's okay. You're okay, love."

The shuddering sobs slowed, and Writer's Block Person's breath evened out, and they were soft against them. "...sorry."

"No, don't be." Kid Review helped Writer's Block Person sit up a bit, and nuzzle their face into their shoulder. "Your bad feelings are valid. You're a good bean. You're good."

The two sat there, the bad feelings floating off into the warm night air, sitting and relaxing in soft silence.

Kid Review took a deep breath, and gave Writer's Block Person a squeeze. "So... do you feel like you're gonna be tempted into joining up with those guys, or something?"

Writer's Block Person straightened up again. "Nah... or..." They ran their hand thru their hair and leaned back. "I dunno, I've always... wanted to experience everything, you know? Life is so..." They gestured, hands spiraling around each other in lazy circles. "There's so much and I love new things and I love the world. And like... having your brain messed with..." They smiled a little. "Doesn't sound like it'd be all bad."

Kid Review smiled. "I mean, people do it a lot of ways, with drugs and with hypnosis and with spiritual deep dives."

"Right." Writer's Block Person nodded. "And I've dabbled with all of those..."

"...and it's not like you've never been burned," said Kid Review, playing with Writer's Block Person's hair.

"Yeah. So like..." They shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think I'd want to join the Community. For one, I don't think I could put up with how generic the name is." Writer's Block Person smiled, and Kid Review chuckled. "But the basic idea..." They sucked a breath thru their teeth. "I could see at least trying it..." They looked off into space, then turned back to Kid Review. "And you know, part of me worries about the people in there, too."

"Right." Kid Review rubbed Writer's Block Person's scalp, smiling. "But you're being selfish right now, and that's okay."

"Heh." They grinned a little. "Right. And I..." They looked out the window. The sky was starting to turn just a little bit blue. "I just... I remember being real young and having so much good energy and... not constant joy but so much happy engagement with the world around me. And..." They wrapped their arms around themself. "And I had so much taken away from me. Taken piece by tiny piece, by the people who were supposed to keep me safe, give me what I needed, raise me right. And I thought it was just..." They clenched their fist. "Just the process of growing up, that it was inevitable. And I forgot how wonderful it could be just to be alive until I found people who..." They smiled at Kid Review. "People who were willing to help me find those tiny pieces again and put them back into place. And I'm just... part of me is just honestly terrified of it happening again." They shook their head. "Thinking that some nice people are helping me out as they strip away little bits of joy under the surface. Maybe they don't even mean to. I don't think the people who raised me meant bad things for me. But..." They shrugged. "Yeah." They sighed, falling back against the couch pillows. "Yeah."

Writer's Block Person lapsed into silence, staring out the window, watching the sun rise; and Kid Review watched with them. When the shapes of houses and trees were clear and in color, they said, "How are you feeling?"

Writer's Block Person heh'd, and smiled at them. "Better." They stretched and yawned. "Mmm... that really didn't have too much to do with the Community, did it."

"Not really." Kid Review grinned.

Writer's Block Person pushed themself to their feet, and extended a hand to help Kid Review up. "I should apologize, get them a gift basket or something."

"They're fine, I'm sure." Kid Review took the hand, standing, and slipped their arms around Writer's Block Person's waist, nuzzling into their shoulder. "Maybe in the morning, you can see if they need any actual help. Maybe reach out to that guy you teamed up with, keep in touch - reassure yourself that nothing screwy's going on."

"Yeah." Writer's Block Person sighed, and kissed Kid Review on the cheek. "Sorry for making you get up."

"You should be. I demand makeup snuggles."

"Sounds good. You wanna be the big spoon?"

"Yes please~"

Library Lad had an entire Dewey Decimal category of memories in his head. Memories of being Andrew Robinson, a young autistic boy who went into the foster care system when his parents were kidnapped by evil roboticists and kicked around until a living improbability generator from the 124th century showed up and awakened his memories of being an incarnation of an Egyptian god. Memories of being Panoute Elrashidy, and going to the Bibliotheca Alexandrina only to be visited by the spirit of the Internet Archive, becoming aware of his existence as a divine incarnation that way. Memories of being Thoth, archiving and maintaining the universe, spreading himself along many selves to document existence. Memories of being created ex nihilo as a fictional character in 1996 and abandoned until much, much later.

And the thing that linked them all was the Library. He remembered wandering down the corridors as usual, enjoying the different textures of spacetime as different genres and subjects bent and folded it, and coming to a bend in the path that absolutely hadn't been there the time_period before, and walking down and coming out the other end on Earth-20, into a history that fit him like a glove.

It had been nice. It was a nice life and a pretty good history, and besides that, it was nice to feel like you fit. In-character, he and Weirdo Boy had never quite felt like a part of the LNH, and out-of-character, they had always felt like an appendage to history, skimming along its surface without really being part of it.

Of course, that was the problem. There wasn't a matching spot in Looniverse-20 and his life-20 for Weirdo Boy.

There probably would be, eventually, when inspiration hit, that ah-ha "this is perfect for that" moment. But for now, his other self, the other half of a youthful personality that had grown with age into an entire garden of selves, was only in half of his life.

And now even that was locked away. "Most irritating" didn't really cover it.

Library Lad knew he was, and was proud of being, a support character. An administrator and a researcher. He wasn't the hero of any of these stories. He was just the one who set it up so others could be. And he didn't mind - he *liked* supporting people, he *liked* making stories happen and getting to see them play out.

But now the story was happening to him. The people he cared about were caught up in it.

Well. All right. What did a researcher and administrator do when they had a problem in their administration, in their field?

"Unfortunately..." His confident expression shifted into a frown. "Your world is blocked off." He reached out, plucked a book off a passing shelf, and leafed thru it, continuing to walk. "It says that there's a general hold put on all accounts originating in universe SW920501. Access denied, with no information in the 'reason' field or any such metadata." He sighed and slipped the book into the next shelf they passed by - actually, Fearless Leader thought, it might be the same shelf, somehow. "Most annoying. I haven't seen a misuse of structural power like this since the days of Master Workload." He shook his head. "It's particularly bothersome for me, seeing as my brother is on the other side."

"Oh?" enquired Fearless Leader, half out of politeness and half out of automatic intel gathering.

"Ah... yes." Library Lad hesitated for a moment, then composed himself. "One of those complicated dimensional things, you know."

"Of course," said Fearless Leader, fully out of politeness. One of his little mental alarms was ringing at the back of his brain; something about the Infinite Library and not being able to get in... "So what's the upshot in terms of sending me home?"

"The upshot is, there's a difficult, complicated, but achievable way to get you out. And absolutely no way to get you back in after. Unless you come via another world, of course. And even then it'd be difficult; I believe the Library only let you in so easily this time because you and our Fearless Leader entered at the same time, and it assumed that only a single account was being accessed."

"I see..." And then the mental alarm stopped, and a memory popped up like toast out of a toaster. "Victoria..."

"Hm?" Library Lad stopped in front of a friendly computer terminal, cocking his head, looking up at Fearless Leader.

"Sorry, I was just reminded. She doesn't talk about it much, but... one of my people's been trying to get in here for a while." Fearless Leader shook his head, looking off at nothing. "She... on a mission I assigned, she lost everything. Her entire history. And only came back because of a fluke." He licked his lips just slightly, looking up at the endless aisles of books, hardbacks, paperbacks, enormous encyclopedias, tiny pamphlets, and... "Somewhere in here, they have the information about... who she used to be, and what she's become. What she brought back with her, from the void."

"Hmmmm..." Library Lad ran a hand thru his hair, deep in thought. "I can at least look her up in the system and see if there's something in her account that she hasn't been able to pick up..." He turned to the terminal and started typing, and a search came up. "Hmmm..." He clicked around. "Huh, that's weird, it's password-protected..." He typed, slowly and carefully... squinting at the screen... "Ah. I see."

"Hm?"

"Duck." Library Lad leapt and pushed Fearless Leader out of the way as the terminal began to spark and smoke. A moment later, it exploded, glass, metal and plastic bursting out with a pyrotechnic THOOM!

Fearless Leader coughed, and sat up, helping Library Lad up as well. It didn't look like shrapnel had hit either of them - just a shelf full of movie-edition Mortal Engines books. "That doesn't seem good."

"No. She's the one who, personally and specifically, has been targeted by this block." He flipped his hands thru his hair in irritation, and smoothed out his suit. "*Most* irritating." He stood up straight. "A simple bureaucratic blockage I can deal with, but the cavalier waste of public resources I cannot stand. Just a moment, please."

Library Lad stalked off down the aisles. Fearless Leader watched him go... then heard a voice from behind him. "*There* we are."

Fearless Leader jumped and spun, but it was Library Lad, looking composed again. Of course - it was easy to forget that a Librarian of Space-Time could take all the time they needed to look up a book, without having to deal with the messy business of waiting. "What did you find?"

"The book she's looking for is a reference copy, so I can't allow it to be taken out of the Library," said Library Lad. "And the Cosmic Photocopier's been down for millenia, so I can't just copy the relevant pages. But I did find this." He handed Fearless Leader a beat-up old trade paperback. "It's the comic book adaptation. It cuts out a lot, because it was produced as a quick, cheap licensed work in the mid-00s. But it should provide some guidance. And..." He gave Fearless Leader an index card, on which was written a long string of numbers. "If she manages to, somehow, make her way around the block, this is the Expanded Dewey Decimal address of the book in question." He sighed. "I'm going to try to address this problem personally, but it will, I'm afraid, take some time."

"That's quite all right," nodded Fearless Leader. "Thank you for your efforts."

"Absolutely." Library Lad pushed, with some effort, a beaming smile onto his face. Fearless Leader could sense the public service training. "Now, as to the matter of getting you home..."

They walked down a snaking path, down aisles and along unfamiliar corridors. Fearless Leader got the sense that Library Lad was putting some effort in that he hadn't before, to avoid some sort of notice. Eventually, they came to an enormous pair of doors, warm mahogany edged in curly gold, with a great bar across them made of ebon metal. "This is the main door to your universe; as you can see, currently locked. And this is how we'll be getting you home."

Fearless Leader turned, and saw, sitting in the middle of the children's section, a large cannon in bright, circus-y colors. It was pointed upwards at an angle; looking up along the line of fire, Fearless Leader could see a single window, open, with bright blue sky on the other side.

"...ah," he said.

And then the wind kicked up and a copy of the Cleveland Plain Dealer hit her in the face.

She flailed around, electric crackling coming out of her gauntlets, and eventually managed to rip the paper off her face and examine it. What the-- Cleveland!? What was she doing in the second-most boring city in the nation[*]!?

[* In fact, the 2010 census shows Cleveland as the fourth-most boring city in the United States, with the current frontrunner being West Lafayette, Indiana! - Ed.(UE)]

She stared at the lines of ink, fragments of thought, memory, emotion bouncing into each other, forming new patterns before splitting and recombining. New city transit plan... tax breaks for people... protest against new law... rogue net.heroes... mmm. Something about that last one felt... off...

And only then, in her haze, did she paid attention to the date. February 20th... 2019?

Out of the fog, the memories rose up. The confrontation with her old team, now her enemies - the Saviors of the Net. Activating the great machine that would begin the process of healing. Sig.Lad, her mentor, her hero, the one who held her back and told her no until she had to leave, raising that damn sword, the Sword of .Sig, Excalibur, and pulling them away into a space where time blurred and softened... waking up and feeling the energies draining away, and draining away with them...

It had been twenty years. 

Well, shit.

How had it ended? Had her machine worked? Had she taken away the corrupting power of the net.humans - and had humanity managed to heal themselves?

She looked at the crumpled newspaper. Rogue net.heroes... But the printed words swam before her eyes. No. She had to see for herself. 

Captain Killfile... no, she told herself. Let's put that name aside. Right now, I am just myself; I am just Brunhilda.

Brunhilda seemed to still be wearing the gaudy gold-and-blue costume, from... before. When she'd taken over the airwaves, when she'd announced her plan to the world, standing in front of the camera and waiting. It'd been a bit spiteful; Sig.Lad had sent it to her a few months before as part of some weird attempt at reconnecting. That guy never knew how to do things in a normal way, just a net.hero way. That was part of...

Mmmm. Her mind was wandering, the fog still curling around it. She turned the hood and cape inside out, exposing the dark blue lining, and pulled the hood down over her face. Much less gaudy, pretty warm, and it'd let her see what 2019 was like without detection. Hopefully.

She slipped into the streets, keeping to the shadows, not hiding herself from passers-by but giving them more than a moment to pay attention to her presence. Subtle, like a ghost. Or like someone who lived in the world of ghosts, fighting them, death to a meaningless half-life...

Like Ghost Exterminator, the mysterious masked enigma of the 1950s. He (people thought it was a he, but nobody knew for sure) wandered thru the streets of San Francisco, stopping to help those in need. He didn't have any net.human powers, just skills, insight, and determination. Nobody knew why the name, either, but the big theory was that he was trying to rid himself of the ghosts who haunted him by helping others.

There had been more Ghost Exterminators in the decades since. It was an identity taken up by those who didn't want to operate under an identity of their own, living ghosts who fought the invisible specters that made society shudder and brought them into the light. Like she had. She'd seen what was wrong with the world that everybody else was too distracted or self-satisfied to realize, and fixed it.

Right?

Suddenly, action - damn, she'd left herself open in her distraction. Some kind of bright light next to her, and a loud voice-- "Greetings, Cleve.LAN.d!"

She rolled to the side and reached for her sword-- and it wasn't there. Falling back on net.hero instincts already, tch.

It was a giant TV, on the side of some kind of sports stadium. On it was a woman, a decade older than her, in a gaudy blue-and-gold mask and hood, with a megalomaniacal expression on her face. "I certainly hope you've missed me! But let me reintroduce myself!" She threw her arms out, flinging her gold-sequined cape to the sides. "I am... CAPTAIN KILLFILE!"

Brunhilda blinked. "...the heck you say," she murmured.

The fake!? took a step back, gesturing grandoisely at an enormous, complicated machine, all neon lights and chrome. "I have rebuilt my patented Kill-O-Ray, and am ready to unleash its awesome force!"

"That's not what it was called," snarled Brunhilda, her back going up. Some kind of awful parody, what was this?

"The fine government of this fair city has an hour to deliver ten million dollars in unmarked bills to the observation deck of the Terminal Tower - or I'll activate my device, and allow the dreaded Killfile to sweep over the land once more!" She pushed her face back into the camera, grinning with devilish glee. "Yes, you don't want that, do you? You may complain about your net.heroes, but ohhhhh, how you hated them going away! Ha ha!"

It felt like Brunhilda had been kicked in the stomach. What. No. Okay. No. Calm down. Fuck. Ugh. No. She pushed the storm of screaming thoughts out of her head and tried to concentrate on the screen.

"That's right!" shouted the masked face. "This is... THE RETURN OF CAPTAIN KILLFILE!"

"ugh shut uuuuup," she muttered, listening. Terminal Tower. Observation deck.

"And in case you doubt me..." The faux Captain stepped to the side, revealing a table with a shiny apple on a plate painted like a bullseye. Brunhilda noticed the glass lenses sliding along the machine's surface, passing past each other, clicking into place. They hummed, and the lights in the room seemed to darken, especially around the apple, which seemed to-- not disappear, nothing as sudden as that, but become less noticeable, more like the background, layer by layer, until it was completely gone.

Damn. That was absolutely real Killfile Energy. Sometime in the last twenty years, someone else had gotten up to her level - insult to injury.

"One hour, ladies, gents and honored guests! The clock starts--" Her hand hovered over a huge digital readout, pushed a big red button on it, and it started counting down. "Now!" The image disappeared, the screen turning an all-over blue with a big 'VIDEO' on it.

Brunhilda breathed in. Captain Killfile breathed out. All right. All right. Calm down. Breathe.

This was why she came out in Cleveland, twenty years later. To be shown this, to... stop this? To... understand? Ugh. But she didn't understand. Not yet. Why didn't... hated? Maybe it was a lie. Maybe it had made life better and this clown was like one of those politicians who talked about how much better things were with the new trade agreement even as it ground people into dust.

Or maybe she'd ground people into dust, thoughtlessly, caring only about herself-- no, calm down Hildy, you're okay, said the voice in her head that sounded just like Sig.Lad and ugh didn't that sting now. But she listened, and it said: See what's going on, take the time to understand, and see if you can help.

Okay.

Her Killfile Gauntlets were on the fritz, and she didn't have much time to tinker, but she knew just how to set up a killfile that would absorb energy weapons and shield her from detection, not to mention keep any externally-imposed killfiles from being placed on her. As for non-energy weapons, well, she'd just have to fall back on her fight training.

Now. Where was the Terminal Tower? Well, when you weren't sure where to find someone to fight, follow the police cars.

It turned out to be only a few minutes' walk. There was a big plaza around it with a bunch of expensive-looking restaurants and stores, now evacuated as the police set up a cordon. She kept back half a block, staying in the shadows to maximize the stealth effect of her killfile. How would she get in? Sure, she wasn't especially visible, but someone with that level of killfile technology would have ways of seeing thru it...

"Hi!"

"GAH!" She leapt in the air, spinning around and landing in a defense position, ready to strike at... a ten-year-old? What? Not only that, but a ten-year-old standing in an alleyway, wearing something that looked like miniaturized night vision goggles, but with googly eyes glued on them. He was looking right at her...

Then she recognized him. This kid wasn't just a kid, he was Kid Enthusiastic, an immortal who was actually older than her. (Not a lot older, but still.) He'd occasionally worked with the Saviors, but had never wanted to join - he had his own stuff going on. But it looked like he had a team now; there were a bunch of figures in colorful spandex behind him in the alley. Looked like teenagers, actually. Kinda familiar, but they must've been born after she disappeared...

"Who are you?" said the Kid. Damn, she was still zoning out. Okay, focus. "I thought I knew all the net.heroes operating in this area!"

"I'm, uh..." Captain Killfile was out, and she sure as heck wasn't going back to Kid Killfile. She flicked a switch on her gauntlet, appearing in the teenagers' vision like a spectre manifesting. "Ghost Exterminator."

"Ohhhhh!" Kid E clapped his hands with his famed energy. "One of them, gotcha gotcha. Well, I'm Kid Enthusiastic, and these are.." He gestured to the teens, who stepped out of the alley and posed! "The Ultimate Saviors!"

"Saviors?" Waaaaait a minute... she squinted. "As in... the Saviors of the Net?" There were five of them, all wearing masks, but their facial structures were clear as daylight, and... oh boy. Oh boy. 

"Yeah, that's right! Apparently W.H.A.T.E.V.E.R. wanted to clone them and have their own set of mind-controlled net.heroes! So we all busted out, together!" He spun around and pointed at them. "Ultimate Saviors, roll call!"

"Super Scary Dazzle Bird!" A young man in his late teens stepped out at Kid Enthusiastic's call. His costume was part black and part holographic sparklies, with long wings drooping off of the arms, and held a long fighting staff in a defensive pose. His eyes twitched back and forth, making sure that despite Kid E's loudness, no one was looking towards them. Brunhilda knew from the color choices alone that this must be the clone of Chromium Age Very-Scary-Disturbed-Creature Man.

"Robot Girl!" A girl whose skin glimmered chrome, with cat ears and a feline muzzle, wearing a green belly-shirt and shorts with a bright red belt, gloves and boots. She swept her long silver hair out of her face as it fluttered in the cold February wind and gave Brunhilda a level gaze, sizing her up. The outfit was terrible for this weather, but it didn't matter - this was the clone of MechaKat, who could nanobiologically turn flesh to titanium alloy. And if they had her, they probably also had...

"Action Lad!" A boy in a red wraparound jacket with silver trim and silver pants and wearing a transparent red visor, with a friendly but focused expression, and his hand on a sword hilt at his belt. Yep, that was him but younger - Sig.Lad, her old mentor, her new-old foe. She kept her face steady as the feelings whirled. Could this night get any more tuned to probe her insecurities?

"Kid Kindle!" This one was even younger - thirteen, maybe fourteen, with red hair that flickered with little tongues of fire as she watched, wearing a white robe with flames flickering along the bottom and a long scarf around his mouth. His eyes were excited, taking in the new visitor, and it was hard to keep her face steady, because boy did she ever know those eyes and that fire, boy did she know that boy - Flamebroiled Lad, avatar of the cosmic entity of intense emotion, the Flamebroiled Force. Her nemesis, her archrival, that stupid jerk who kept hogging the other Nintendo controller. Her brrrrr... o. Her bro.

And with a sudden shuddering shock that made the February evening feel balmy by comparison, she realized who the last clone would be--

"Kid Killswitch!" And there she came, in shining white armor with a bright red "power off" symbol on the chest, that familiar face, those familiar eyes, intelligent and curious and driven and broken, no, not that, said the voice in her head, but eyes that had known both pain and joy, like and unlike her own - the clone of Captain Killfile.

Brunhilda tried to release the churning whirlwind of emotions into some form that could be understood by men, but all that came out of her mouth was a murmured "...I'm too young to be my own mom..."

"...a?" Kid Enthusiastic tilted his head to the side, looking up at her curiously.

She shook her head, took a deep breath, and put away every feeling she didn't have time for right now. An incredibly useful skill from the life-or-death battle days. "That is, uh... Saviors, huh? So how are they ultimate?"

"Because they're the best and I love them!" Kid Enthusiastic spun around and posed, holding his arms wide as he showed off his team.

"Right yeah." Mecha-- er, Robot Girl stepped forward. "And apparently the lady what messed up the original Saviors is back and serious, so it's our job to stop her since they can't. Got a problem with that?"

Brunhilda couldn't help but smile. Well, well, the kids are all right. "Nope. Was just thinking the same thing."

"I don't know if I'd say it's our job," said Action Lad, stepping forward non-confrontationally into Robot Girl's confrontation space, "that seems to be basic survival."

Kid E nodded! "We've been laying low while we try'n contact the LNH. It's hard - W.H.A.T.E.V.E.R. has facial recognition technology they use on all the security cam footage they can grab, and they can grab nearly all of it. So we've been keeping under wraps."

"But we still have to get out there and save people!" Kid Kindle's hair burst briefly into full flame, and he grinned in enthusiasm. Great, another one taking after his mentor. "We can't just stay in a safehouse and send emails!"

"So we wear facial-recognition-defeating face paint when we're undercover, and go on missions without it, since it's going to be obvious either way that the team of five teenage net.heroes that appeared out of nowhere are the same five teenage net.humans that disappeared from not-so-protective custody." Super Scary Dazzle Bird (what a name!) looked off towards the Terminal Tower. "Speaking of which, if you're coming with us, we'd better get going. The clock is still ticking."

The LNH must be the Something Net.Heroes, and Whatever... Net.villans? Government agency? Something else? Bad guys, or so Kid Enthusiastic thought, and she had to admit, cloning her old team in order to have some kind of controlled force didn't seem like an especially ethical thing. Had they taken over during the Killfile, when there weren't any net.heroes to stop them?

Brunhilda released her anxious feelings again, though this time it was harder. "Right. Time to team up and beat the bad guy." Just like the old days, only now, the bad guy was her...

No, the bad guy was a cheap copy who had no idea what she'd actually been trying to do. And she could at least take responsibility for her imitators, and deal with whatever else she'd unleashed later.

Heh. W.H.A.T.E.V.E.R. else.

Kid Killswitch hadn't said anything. She was still looking at Brunhilda. But she nodded and followed along with everyone else.

Brunhilda took a battery from Super Scary Dazzle Bird and wired it into her gauntlets, extending the killfile to cover all of them. They snuck past the cops, Robot Girl and Action Lad keeping their eyes on the perimeter in case someone caught a glimpse.

There were a couple of muscly dudes in gold-and-blue suits standing next to the entrance. Kid Kindle reached out, a lance of emotional fire shooting out and hitting one of them in the back; nostalgia and guilt flared in Brunhilda's chest at the display of power.

The goon straightened up from his slumped position and pushed the other one roughly. "Hey, wake up! I don't wanna lose my paycheck because of you!"

Another blast of energizing anger, and the other goon pushed back. "Shut up! You're the one who said this was gonna be an easy job, and now there's ten thousand cops out there and we're probably gonna be left holding the bag!"

"You shut up! God, I should never have dated you!" The one goon slapped the other goon, and the other goon slapped back, and they grabbed each other and started rolling on the ground, passionately making out, and Brunhilda and the Ultimate Saviors snuck inside.

Down a small, lightless corridor, and down to the elevator. Robot Girl leaned in, removing the panel and sticking her fingers in among the wires. She stretched out her hand and a screen appeared showing datastreams zipping back and forth; Kid Killswitch and Super Scary Dazzle Bird leaned in to analyze it. Action Lad and Kid Kindle spread out, keeping watch.

Kid E bounced in place, watching his charges figure out the puzzle. Brunhilda leaned back on the wall next to him, watching them as well, especially the one who was-and-wasn't her. "They have a heck of a lot of personality, for people who came out of a vat not long ago."

Kid E nodded enthusiastically! "They're not just regular clones, they're biotropic duplicates! W.H.A.T.E.V.E.R. stole the device that Sig.Lad used to copy people's power signatures and used it to template them as they were growing? They even lured a Salamander[*] in to possess Kid Kindle! But we stole the device back and now Action Lad's using it!"

[* Also known as Ifrits, Salamanders are the fiery elemental offspring of the Flamebroiled Force which possessed and empowered Flamebroiled Lad! - Ed.(UE)]

"Ahhh." Brunhilda ran the tip of her tongue over her lip. "So... their personalities are clones too?"

"Sort of." Kid E wiggled his hand. "They're definitely their own people, tho - I knew the originals, and these guys aren't making the same choices they would've."

"Mmmm..." Brunhilda breathed in deep, let it out. "That's good, that's real good..."

"All right." Super Scary Dazzle Bird stood up and turned to them, all business. (God, that name. Not that it was any sillier than Chromium Age Very-Scary-Disturbed-Creature Man.) "We've hacked the elevator so that it'll take us to the top without triggering alarm system notifications. But to do that, it has to go slow - it'll take us fifteen minutes to get up there."

"We only have, like, twenty minutes left before the deadline!" Kid Kindle brought his fists against his chest, eyes wide in passion and fear. "What if she actually brings back the Killfile!?"

"She won't." Brunhilda straightened up, squaring her shoulders. "As you can probably tell, I have, uh, some experience with killfile tech." She gestured at the ceiling. "That machine she's got is advanced, but there's no way it could project a subject-based killfile broad enough to cover Ohio, let alone the world." You'd need a much bigger power source, and the one she'd used... wasn't available. As far as she knew.

"Could still do some damage, though," remarked Kid Killswitch, looking up at her. 

Aw, baby's first words... Brunhilda regretted the sarcastic thought immediately. "Oh yeah, and how. Killfiles can mess with all sorts of important shit. She could take Cleveland down hard, and her next blackmail scheme would seem all the more real."

"So we'd better hurry." MechaKat closed her hand, the screen disappeared, and the door of the elevator opened. They all shuffled in, and silently, it began to rise. In the background, a jazzy instrumental version of "Mad World" started playing.

"Right," said Action Lad. "Ultimate Saviors... waiting mode!!"

Brunhilda watched as all five of them sat down and immediately pulled Magic: The Gathering decks out of somewhere in their costumes, shuffling up with practiced speed. "Turn one, mountain, lighting bolt Action Lad." "Why me!?" "Because we don't have time for one of your weird blue shapeshifter decks!" "Awww..."

Kid Enthusiastic leaned back against the wall next to her. "So~"

"...so?"

"Feels like you've got some more questions in you! And we've got time."

The side of Brunhilda's mouth turned down at his easy poke at her boundaries... but it wasn't like she didn't have a thousand and one questions, bubbling and burning in her belly, about this new world she'd found herself one of the creators of. And the most burning of them all... "Well... you were around back then, right? What was the Killfile like?"

"Oh man. It mega sucked," Kid Enthusiastic chirped. "I mean, life was kind of normal, but the kind of normal where you're working a crappy job and it's gray and depressing outside, you know?"

"...oh." It felt like cold water had been thrown in her face. The boxes that she'd put her feelings in earlier burst open, flooding her system with complicated griefs.

"Like," continued Kid E, not noticing her face's fall, "there were so many bad guys and even though they couldn't build Kill-O-Rays or send robot goons at you, they could still just keep making things worse all the time." He hummed, looking off into the distance in appreciation. "Even though things really suck right now, people are really fighting, too. Back then, it seemed like hardly any of us could fight - or could even see there was anything worth fighting!"

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. That was... that was...

Brunhilda Ampulle had been just another kid kicking around the foster care system, just kind of existing, and then she looked up and someone had reached out a hand and she'd taken it. And she'd become a net.hero because that hand had belonged to a net hero.

But that was only why she'd started doing it. She'd kept doing it because she could just reach out and help people, right in front of her. And she'd done that for a while and she wasn't just existing, she was living, and she was... getting better, most days.

And eventually she'd gotten better enough to where she could lift her head up, and look out at the world... and see that, actually, there were a lot more awful things going on out there, outside her city and her team, than she had realized. Things she couldn't just reach out and affect. Things none of the net.heroes seemed to be able to affect, even the stupidly powerful ones who Kept Watch Over The World. But those net.heroes kept going, kept getting into big splashy fights over things that seemed so small, and those faraway troubles just kept getting better, just kept getting closer. And then...

Look, people died all the time, she knew that, you fought guys with guns and that happened. But this hadn't been in a fight, and it hadn't been someone who signed up for it, and... it was so unnecessary, so meaningless, and Alice wasn't even... She was nice and kind and good and people like that weren't even supposed to...

Well. So she left. She left, and one of her little theoretical ideas turned into a big not-so-theoretical idea, and... and she became one of those troubles, and...

"It wasn't all bad, tho."

"--oh!?" Brunhilda jerked out of her reverie, hardly even caring that the Ultimate Saviors had all looked up at her half-squeaked exclamation. She settled back, and they returned to their game.

"Yeah, like..." Kid Enthusiastic rubbed his chin, teasing out a complex emotion. "I feel like... After  the Killfile, people appreciated us more. No, like, not just us, the whole... the whole idea." He put his hands out, squeezing something invisible. "Even when the government was trying to control us and there were a lot of people pushing against us, there were so many people who, it seemed like... had woken up after decades, maybe their whole lives, and realized that actually fighting evil is good?"

"I..." She closed her mouth, a little puff of breath escaping out her nose. That answer was... frustrating. Not exactly the positive impact she'd wanted from her efforts - "people suffered so much that they realized they had to give a shit".

...on the other hand... maybe that was the best outcome she could've hoped for...

She rested her head against the wall of the elevator and listened to the soft rumbling as it moved. Even before Alice... did it, Brunhilda had realized that there was something wrong with the world. A huge, low-level grossness, an apathy, spreading over it. She remembered seeing cartoons about Saving the Planet, and thinking they were lame, and then realizing that no, this was a real problem that kept getting worse as people kept laughing at it. She heard how stupid that woman who spilled coffee on herself was, and came to understand that the "joke" was that someone would want to get money and apology from a trillion-dollar corporation that just kept growing and growing and taking and taking, and how foolish and lazy that was. She saw that bombs were being lobbed every day straight into schools full of little kids who weren't white and weren't Christian and the generals shrugged and said "oops, accident" and it just kept going on in the background and everyone was grumbling about it but no one was shouting, no one really and truly cared and...

And it had to be someone's fault. It hadn't always been like this, someone had caused this, but who was powerful enough to change the entire world like that?

And she looked around herself and realized: It was us. The net.heroes, the net.villains. They were powerful and everyone looked up to them, the celebrities and heroes of the world. 

And the more she looked for it, the more she saw it. Their, our, weird self-obsession, our attachment to their own battles, and especially, the way that, whenever we tried to confront wars and environmental damage and real suffering, it never produced a solution that stuck. Even the Saviors, even Sig.Lad, only ever put band-aids on the problems.

And then... Look, sometimes you stretched out your hand to someone and they were in too bad of a place to take it. She knew that, she'd always known that, but when... When you got someone out of a burning building, especially when you sat and talked with them, and they turned out to be really cool, and nice, and maybe were going to join your game group, and said "I'll be okay", they weren't... Alice wasn't just supposed to... if you saved their life they didn't have the right to...

With effort she pulled herself out of that loop and glanced at Kid Enthusiastic. He gave her a cheery smile, then turned away, seeming to sense that she was done talking for now. She wouldn't have chalked him up for that kind of social awareness, but it was already clear he had a lot going on under the facade...

The music kept playing, a weird, jazzy loop, and as she watched the teen she had once been play, she slipped back into her memories...

So she'd taken a leave of absence from the Saviors.

...so she'd had an enormous screaming crying argument with the Saviors and left. And after she'd parked herself in a cheap hotel and cried everything out, she had made some plans.

She'd used the Saviors' wages she'd saved up and the modest royalties from her patents to buy a workshop in Clearwater Hill, one of Net.ropolis's poorest neighborhoods. And she set about working in the solution. The Killfile Device.

She'd been thinking of it as something she could present to the smart, reasonable heroes, talk it over and use it as a tool to scrape the worst bits out of net.humanity before it was too late. A decision she wouldn't have to make alone.

But... a few months in, people had noticed she wasn't with the Saviors anymore. Action Bimonthly, a mid-level magazine about net.hero goings-on, contacted her for an interview. And she was so excited, she could tell people - no, not all the details, but what she'd noticed, her goals, and get the message out, and there would be like-minded people who would come to her and they could work together...

And the interview came out and... nobody seemed to notice? Nobody came out of the woodwork to join in her cause? She didn't hear anything? 

No, it had been worse than that, because she had certainly heard things when she read the letters to the editor in Action. How people like her were making a fuss, distracting from the real issues, making the people who were actually trying to fix things look bad.

So she didn't take any more interviews after that. She just worked. She had already started and she couldn't stop now and she didn't think about what would happen when she was done.

But there was one thing she couldn't figure out, one thing she'd been hoping to get help with from somebody - a power source.

And a little voice was whispering in her head. Quietly at first, and she pushed it away and kept working, but louder and louder as she went deeper and deeper into single-minded focus. The net.heroes caused this problem. The net.heroes had the power.

Killfile Energy filtered, separated. She could separate the power from those who had it, use their own wasted might that had tried and failed so many times to save the world, to finally save it once and for all.

She built a power-channeling device. Just to test the idea. And if she found someone who wanted to help and had the power she could use it for that, right?

And the day came when every part of the device was done and there weren't any more tweaks left to make, and there weren't any more tests to be run, and she had to stop and face the prospect of actually using it.

By this time, the obsessive thoughts were a constant background pounding. She had to show them. She had to stop them. Before it was too late. It was almost too late. Something awful was going to rush up at any second, some net.hero with too much power was going to make a mistake, and smash the world flat, and it would be her fault. But it was okay. She had the machine, and she could use it and fix things, save the world... 

And she knew how she could get the power.

She knew how to bring net.heroes running. Net.heroes with the power to feel her machine. And part of her knew just which heroes it would end up being. Part of her begged her not to. She broke down into crying fits, finally telling herself that she would just talk to them first, that they'd have to hear her out when she had this power at her back.

She cleaned herself up. She put on that costume. She activated her stealth killfiles. She walked straight into the big national news studio with no one seeing, put every living soul who could stop her in a half-hour killfile bubble, put the cameras on her and sent out her message. 

This time she wasn't able to hold it back like she did in the interview. She told the world what was wrong with it and why; how the net.heroes had gone too far, and not knowing or understanding, had betrayed the rest of humanity. She announced her plan to clear them away and let the world heal. And she told them where to find her. Then she turned her killfiles back on and walked away.

And of course when she got to the workshop the Saviors were there already and of course they would have seen her coming in and of course there was no time to talk, right, it wasn't that she was striking the first blow because she knew in her heart that if she said what she meant she would be rejected again, of course not of course not

Even though Sig.Lad was already trying to reach out as she pushed them back with a killfile shell, even though Lurking Girl broke her solitude to ask why, even though she could see the bitter sadness in MechaKat's eyes

And the only one strong enough to break thru her shells burst in, as she knew he would, knocking her back against the machine, Felix, her stupid little brother fighting her again, she'd never told him she thought of him like that, he was yelling at her about how she was betraying them all, and she yelled at him about how he didn't understand because he only cared about fake shit like anime and being a hero

And she pulled the lever

And the killfile activated, splitting him in two, Felix Landers and the Flamebroiled Force, never to be reunited, discarding the one and sending the other into the machine, straight thru her

All the rage, all the fear, all the resentment, all the secret impossible buried hope, channeled straight thru her body and mind and into her machine and she felt it unfold, the dampening blanket enfolding the world

And in the distance, a glint of metal, Sig.Lad raised his sword, and somehow she could see his eyes, great and sad and knowing it was over, and summoning his own death, because the wielder of Excalibur could only have one end, opening the gate to the fairy world to sleep forever, and time slowing down and slipping away

and she'd been right some net.hero with too much power made a mistake and smashed the world flat and it was her that's what she was that's what she'd done it was her fault she wasn't a hero she'd never been a hero that's why Captain Killfile was the worst net.villain ever

"Hey... are you okay?"

Brunhilda jerked back to reality. Without realizing it, she'd slumped to the ground, legs folded up against her. Kid Enthusiastic and the Ultimate Saviors were gathered around her, looking down with concern and/or worry. Her head and face were tingling, and she reached up with a shaking hand to touch her face... yes, it was covered in tears.

"I..." She swallowed thickly, trying to find words, but all that came to mind was... the Killfile wasn't set with an ending date. It could have lasted for centuries. Somehow, the Saviors had stopped that but... it could have been so much worse and it was all her fault...

Wait, something was wrong, other than everything...

"The music stopped," she said.

Everyone's head turned. With a click, the doors began to open...

Kid Killswitch grabbed Brunhilda's wrist, grabbed the loose wire and touched it to the battery. The stealth killfile spread out to cover them.

The doors slid open. The guards stationed on either side of the elevator peered inside. Everyone held their breath...

The guards looked at each other, shrugged, and settled back in place. The door slowly closed. Everyone breathed out.

Robot Girl leaned in and slapped her hand on the button panel. "Keeping the door closed, keeping us in place."

"Right. Everybody, put your fingers in your ears and go la-la-la," said Kid Killswitch.

"...why!?" said Super Scary Dazzle Bird, throwing his hands in the air. "This isn't the kind of--"

"Just do it, nerd!" Kid Killswitch rolled her eyes. 

Kid Kindle turned. "Kid E, what do you--"

"La la la la-- were we not supposed to yet?"

Super Scary Dazzle Bird sighed. "Okay, okay, fine... la la la la..."

"I gotta keep my hand here," said Robot Girl, "but I'll turn off my audio inputs, okay?"

"Sure yeah whatever." Kid Killswitch waited until everyone was la-la-la-ing, and turned to Brunhilda. "Okay. Get up, Captain Killfile."

"I..." She took in a shuddering breath, let it out. Too late to deny it and she didn't have the composure anyway. She didn't even feel as shocked as she should. "How?"

Kid Killswitch rolled her eyes again. "We know who we're supposed to be. You think I don't know that face from splashing cold water on it at three in the morning, wondering when I would start feeling the urge to Go Bad?"

"...fuck..." The guilt stabbed right back into her brain. "sorry."

"Look--" Kid Killswitch shook her head and made a pushing-it-away motion. "Don't worry about it. I don't think there's anybody who didn't get their parents' anxieties. Maybe Kid E. Anyway, that's not what I wanted to say and we don't have much time." She ran her hand thru her hair, looking off to the side. "I read that interview. I wanted to know who you were and why you did it and I dug that up and... it made sense."

Brunhilda blinked, a bit of the haze of grief and guilt lifting, replaced by intrigued confusion. "...seriously?" She actually found a copy after twenty years? How-- wait, it made sense?

"Yeah. Like, I dunno if I agree with you twenty years on, but like, you were clearly not crazy, you clearly had a good goal in mind, you were clearly tryin'a help." She grinned that same always-a-bit-smug grin. "After I read it I didn't have quite as many nightmares."

"...wow." The huge weight hanging on Brunhilda's nerves and bones started to rise off a bit. "Y'know, you're the first one who's ever said that?"

"Not surprised. Controversial shit, and you were shooting it into the void. You didn't have anybody to talk over ideas with, did ya?"

"I mean..." She sighed. "The Saviors, but..."

"Yeah. They didn't get it." She looked over her shoulder, at everyone going 'la la la'. "It's different with these nerds. They support my stupid ideas, even if they give me shit for them. And I support theirs, even if they're morons half the time."

"Yeah..." Brunhilda was... jealous and happy at the same time. Today was just a smorgasbord of new emotions, huh. "You don't have to be like me."

"Hey, look." Kid Killswitch stuck her finger in Brunhilda's face. Jeez, she couldn't have been this rude, right? "My point is? I want to be like you."

"...kid." Brunhilda squinted in disbelief. "Thanks for being nice to the crazy lady, but. I just broke down crying because I fucked up the world so bad."

"EXACTLY, crazy lady!" Kid Killswitch gesticulated passionately. "You fucked up and you know it and now you're gonna try and fix it, right?"

"..." Flashes of what she'd done - the blanket, formed from her own resentment and pain wrapping around the world. "I don't think I can..." But under that pain... that purpose. To be the hand that reached out. "But... fuck it. Whatever I can do, I'll do." She breathed out, and a little more of that awful weight floated away. "That's who I am now. Someone who makes up for the Killfile."

"Right." Kid Killswitch nodded firmly. "That's who I want to be. Someone who makes mistakes and makes up for it and keeps going." She looked Brunhilda in the eye. "A hero."

Brunhilda sucked in her breath. "Damn. How are you this smart when you just came out of a tube?"

Kid Killswitch giggled, with that bit of familiar bubbly snottiness. She'd missed feeling that way. "I got it from you, bozo. I literally have your brain."

"Right." Brunhilda shook herself out, ran her hands thru her hair. "Well... thanks."

Kid Killswitch snerked. "Don't thank me, I'm being selfish. The others get to be clones of heroes, why shouldn't I?" She reached out a hand. "C'mon. Get up... Ghost Exterminator."

Brunhilda grinned and took the hand, pulling herself up. She still didn't feel like a good person, exactly. But hell. She didn't have to be, to be a hero.

Kid Killswitch tapped Kid E on the shoulder, and they got the others to stop la-la-la-ing while Brunhilda smoothed herself out. Super Scary Dazzle Bird fluffed out his cape irritably. "So what was that about?"

"Simple. Remember when Kid E told us about secret weaknesses, like Captain Minority being vulnerable to artificial vanilla flavor?" Kid Killswitch gestured to Brunhilda. "Well, Ghosty here just got hit with her secret weakness, and I figured out what it was and helped her out."

"'Cause you're so smart," grinned Kid Kindle, and held out his fist.

"'Cause I'm so smart!" grinned Kid Killswitch, and bumped it.

"And you didn't wanna expose the secret to everybody!" Kid Enthusiastic pumped his fists. "Good job!"

"Yeah, nice, there's problems," said Robot Girl, hand still on the panel. "The mayor gave in and there's a chopper that's gonna set down on the roof in like two minutes with the money."

"I mean, better for her to get away with the money than for people to get hurt," said Action Lad.

"Yeah," said Brunhilda, cracking her knuckles. "But even better to kick her ass."

"Just tell me when," said Robot Girl.

"Everybody!" called out Kid Enthusiastic gleefully, even though they were all literally right there. "Cool team pose!"

"Come on," groused Kid Killswitch, but she was grinning. She and Kid Kindle lined up on one side of Kid Enthusiastic, Super Scary Dazzle Bird and Action Lad on the other, forming a V. Brunhilda got over on the left side of the door, mirroring Robot Girl on the left. All seven of them got into action stances, and Robot Girl took her hand off the door.

With a ding, the door opened. One of the goons was kneeling down, whistling, examining the mechanism. She looked up, still whistling...

And Robot Girl's metal fist plowed into her chin, knocking her back and away.

The other goon straightened up, going for the ray gun at her side. "Ey, it's some kinda ghost!"

"More like a Ghost Exterminator!" Brunhilda's gauntleted knuckles impacted the goon's stomach. The banter was comforting.

"Oofda!" She went down too, and Super Scary Dazzle Bird and Kid Killswitch grabbed the dropped ray guns. The seven net.heroes ran down the hall and Action Lad kicked the door in.

The fake Captain Killfile was gloating at the cameras, as her goons moved her machine onto a dolly. "Thank you for your service, Cleveland! You've got a lovely city here - hope it stays that way, haha!"

Kid Killswitch lifted the ray gun she'd grabbed, aimed, fired it at the impostor... only for the beam to fade into nothing before it hit her!

"Shit!" said Brunhilda. "She's got a personal defense killfile!"

"Ha-hah!" the impostor crowed, turning to face them, pumping her fist in glee. "We have guests! Blacklisters, activate the Killfile Killfile!" 

One of the goons hit a switch on the big machine, and Brunhilda felt a soft wave of dampening energy roll over the room - dropping the Killfile that kept them hidden.

"Looks like we're doing this the hard way, guys!" Kid Enthusiastic leapt into the fray, and the team followed in his wake of morale.

She turned to the camera and gave it a wink. "Now the whole city will see the true might of the legendary-- Captain Killfile!!"

Of course she had to keep saying that, grumbled Brunhilda. And now "killfile" didn't sound like a word anymore.

Robot Girl lashed out with metal claws, slicing ray guns in two. "You have a team name for your minions? That's way too retro, lady."

"I dunno, though." Action Lad took the hilt from the scabbard he wore, and pulled out an enormous pen with a sword-like hilt and a glowing blue tip. He inscribed a name in the air, writing "Linguini Lass" with liquid light, in loopy, flowing cursive. "I'd say it's so retro it's cool again." He pulled the pen away, and the looping script flowed into his body, outlining him in neon blue. His limbs stretched out, noodle-like, to entangle the goons.

Kid Kindle shot empowering energy into the bodies of his teammates. "Yeah! I'm glad we got a net.villain with some style!"

Robot Girl knocked two goons' heads together and sighed. "Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say."

Brunhilda scooted sideways in the fray. "Hey," she murmured to Kid Killswitch, "I got an idea."

"I'm listening..."

Super Scary Dazzle Bird was attempting more shots at the impostor, reasoning that if the Killfile Killfile had killfiled their killfile, then her own killfile must also be killfiled. (And now "killfile" *really* didn't look like a word anymore.) Unfortunately, said impostor had made it over to the Kill-O-Ray, which seemed to be protected by a non-killfile-based forcefield, and was flipping switches and cackling.

Brunhilda stepped directly in front of the cameras. She summoned all the performative net.hero drama she was capable of, and pointed dramatically at the impostor with her right hand, bare now, her index finger aligned perfectly with her target. "Stop right there! I know you're not the real Captain Killfile!"

The impostor's body stiffened, and she spun around, her manic grin a bit stiffer and less real than it had been a moment ago. "Hah!" She straightened, tossing her arm so that her sparkly cape billowed dramatically. "And why would you make such a foolish proclamation? Some kind of net.hero trickery?"

"No." The heavy weight of grief and guilt was laying against Brunhilda's chest. But she knew, now. She'd let guilt fester in her, guilt over not being the one to fix the world all by herself, and it had lead to a lot of terrible things. You were supposed to share the weight of the world, because it belonged to everybody; you weren't supposed to hold it up alone until it crushed you and everybody else in the process. She didn't need to be the one to solve everything. She just needed to let out the knowledge, the feelings, she was holding inside - spread them to the world, as far as she could, and let everyone know the truth.

"It's because..." Brunhilda pulled down her hood, and looked up at the impostor. "Because my name is Brunhilda Ampulle. And I..." She looked directly into the camera. "I was Captain Killfile."

Everything was quiet for a moment.

"...wait, what!?" shouted Kid Kindle, before dodging yet another kick by a Blacklister.

"You..." the impostor's eyes narrowed. She ripped the gaudy cape and hood off, tossing it on the floor. From her belt she pulled a metal tube and hit a button on it, and out popped a blade of searing gray-white nothingness that hurt the eyes to look at - coherent Killfile Energy. "It's YOUR FAULT!"

Action Lad undropped his jaw. "G-- C-- Ghost Exterminator, catch!" He tossed his pen-sword thru the air.

Brunhilda caught it as it came down, just in time to block the impostor's blade. "Yeah, it was. All my fault." She danced back, parried, thrusted. "What's your story?"

"Jessica Blackstone, heiress to the scientific traditions of Patricia Blackstone!" Jessica dodged the thrust, going in with big, wild slashes - not as wild as they seemed, though, and Brunhilda had to twist and counter with expert timing. "I was eleven when the Killfile went up! My mother had been an expert in the field of killfile weapons research! Courted by governments, showered in grant money, treated like a queen! And I, her princess! We had money and wealth! And then it all went away!" 

"Gotcha. This is a revenge story." Brunhilda's attention was focused. She didn't think about the plan going off in the background, just on the woman in front of her. Keep her talking. Keep her fighting. "So what happened?"

"Hah, as if you didn't know!" The two blades, energy and narrative, locked against each other, and the two fighters were face to face. Jessica shouted in Brunhilda's face, little flecks of spittle flying - ew. "With the great Killfile up, killfile technology lost much of its power, for it's difficult to put a killfile over a killfile! My mother knew that problem could be cracked, but the powers that were did not care! We lost our prestige, our wealth! I had to go to public school!"

"...right. And then?" Brunhilda pushed back and fell into a defensive position, her back to the machine. She's ranting now, let it happen, no matter how dumb it is. 

"And then the Killfile fell, and I dedicated my life to cracking the problem! I became the world's preeminent specialist in Killfile Energy! And I swore I would use the position to take back the wealth and power that you had denied me!" She was far too angry at Brunhilda to attack her now, glaring, yelling, wanting her to hear every word. "I'm greater than you ever were! Stronger! Smarter!"

Kid Killswitch stepped forward, on Brunhilda's left. "Hey, bitch," she called to what's-her-name. "If you're so smart, do you know what happens when you bring together two rapidly fluctuating opposite-polarity killfiles?"

"...yeah," said Jessica, looking at Kid Killswitch like she was an idiot for asking. "You create a standing watchlist wave that destroys... destroys any killfiles--"

She jumped towards them but it was too late. Kid Killswitch lifted the right-hand gauntlet that Brunhilda had given her, the one she'd spent the fight rewiring to the opposite polarity and setting to fluctuate. Brunhilda lifted her left-hand gauntlet, still radiating Killfile Energy, and slammed them together.

A sphere of un-energy burst from the point of contact, knocking them apart, knocking back the impostor, knocking down the Blacklisters and the Ultimate Saviors. The room shone, dazzling and bright, everything standing out against everything else. The Kill-O-Ray sparked and smoked, and with a pop! an apple reappeared.

Everything was quiet for a few moments. Then Kid Killswitch pulled herself up in front of the cameras. "Hey, folks... hope you enjoyed. City is safe, Captain Killfile is no more, and..." She thumped her chest. "You can call me Captain Killfile now." She clicked off the camera and sighed. "That feels good."

Kid Enthusiastic hopped up next, running across the room. "OMG good job!" He pulled out a glob of green goo and used it to stick Jessica's hands together and stick her to a pillar.

"...hey..." Jessica muttered, woozily.

He tossed another glob of goo between his hands, watching Brunhilda as she pulled herself up. "Don't suppose I need to stick you in place for the cops too~"

Brunhilda shook her head. "Think you probably guessed that I'm not gonna be fighting heroes anytime soon."

He giggled, but his eyes were a bit more serious, looking her up and down. "Yeah... I don't think you are." He put the goo away. "But what are you gonna be doing?"

"Better question, what are we gonna be doing," said Super Scary Dazzle Bird, dusting off his cape. "What happened to keeping a low profile?"

"That's net.heroing," said Action Lad. "This was gonna be big one way or another. Can I have that back?" He nodded to the pen-sword.

"Oh, sure." Brunhilda handed it back.

"Wait wait wait wait wait," said Kid Kindle, popping up. "Are we just gonna ignore that she just confessed to being Captain Killfile?" He turned to Kid Kill-- nope, she was Captain Killfile now. "Why do you want the name?"

Captain Killfille grinned. "Right of conquest. Claiming my heritage. And maybe I just wanna shock the norms."

Brunhilda grinned. "Hey, I'm not using it."

Action Lad grinned. "I guess this really was... the return of Captain Killfile."

Robot Girl covered her face. "Why."

Action Lad shrugged exaggeratedly~ "I've decided to lean into dad jokes."

"Seriously, tho," said Kid Enthusiastic, bouncing in place. "What's your plans? You're pretty clearly messed up, twenty years out of time by the look of it-- you gotta tell me how that happened-- and you probably don't have anywhere to go."

Brunhilda rubbed her face. "Yeah, you're right. And I gotta.." She closed her eyes, and felt the pain suddenly well up again, felt a tear threatening to form in the corner of her eye. The weight wasn't gone just 'cause she'd done one thing. But it didn't hurt quite as much.

"Actually..." She rubbed her eyes. "I think I was wrong, before. I think I definitely need to be taken into custody." She looked over the six of them. "But the 2019 cops sound like they suck. So how about y'all taking me in until you can remand me to that net.hero team you've been trying to contact?"

"...oh, good idea," said Action Lad, doing his post-battle stretches.

"I suppose that's the safest option," harrumphed Super Scary Dazzle Bird, crossing his arms.

Robot Girl rolled her eyes. "I guess--"

"WAIT WAIT WAIT." Kid Kindle skidded in front of Brunhilda, waving his hands at the rest of them. "You're really saying that we literally take in the biggest bad guy of all time!? Right after-- ALL THAT!?"

Captain Killfile stepped forward. "Dude." She looked put her hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye. "I trust her."

"..." He siiiiiiiighed dramatically, flopping his head back and rolling his eyes. "Fiiiiiiine. I guess somebody's gotta keep an eye on her."

"Welp, that's settled!" Kid E clapped his hands. "Now... let's scram already, the cops will be here soon!"

"Right!" The Ultimate Saviors clattered down the hallway, but Kid Enthusiastic took Brunhilda's arm before she could follow.

"By the way," he said. "Hildy. If it's okay to call you that."

"Heh... you can call me anything you want, now, I guess," she said. "What is it?"

"Just wanted to let you know. Felix?" He smiled big up at her. "He's the leader of the LNH!"

One more burst of cold surprise for the evening. "...ah heck." She'd have to face him, eventually. She'd have to apologize... She could feel the tears welling up again, and quickly rubbed her eyes. He'd survived. He... her brother was okay. "Always... always knew he'd make somethin' of himself."

"Yeah." He smiled up at her, and took her hand. "Let's go, Ghost Exterminator."