A furry ball of white cuteness scurried up Dan's arm and settled at his shoulder, brushing against his cheek with a squeak. Dan rubbed its head, his heart breaking.

"Stop moping and get on with it," Mercury demanded loudly from across the room. The frail doctor valiantly stood behind a portable glass safety screen. In his hands he cradled a device that resembled a radar gun glued to a hair dryer. A pair of oversized earmuffs protected what was left of his hearing, and gave him a convenient excuse to shout.

Dan, bravely defying convention, decided to risk his adorable animal friend's life, rather than suffer the doctor's displeasure. He squinted at the large target painted on the wooden floor, quickly taking in its features. Then, he closed his eyes and hoped he wouldn't arrive covered in blood.

A surprised squeak snapped them back open, and he jerked backwards towards the sound. Mouse-friend fell from shoulder height, where Dan once stood, and hit the ground. Thankfully, being about 90% fluff, the little critter bounced. Dan heaved a sigh of relief upon finding himself standing exactly where he'd meant to be.

"Again!" the doctor barked from his armored sanctuary. "This time, actually try to bring the mouse with you!"

Dan nodded, walking back to his previous position and scooping up his little friend. "I'm naming you Merrill," he declared. "You've got a name now, so you aren't allowed to die."

"Stop being absurd," a heartless old man shouted in the background. Dan easily ignored him.

He set Merrill back on his shoulder, giving her a reassuring pat. Turning back to the target, he focused harder than ever before; he imagined himself standing there, triumphant, with Merrill on his shoulder. Another indignant squeak had Dan spinning around. Once again, Merrill bounced off the floor.

"Oh, sorry Merrill!" Dan exclaimed, rushing back to the traumatized mouse. A few reassuring pats comforted her somewhat, and Dan slipped the wiggling bundle of fur into the front pocket of his shirt. He'd read somewhere that mice like enclosed spaces, so hopefully it would settle her down. She stopped squirming after a moment, so he turned to Doctor Mercury expectantly.

"Well?" he asked. "What's the verdict, doc?"

The doctor squinted at his radar gun, jiggling it a little bit, as if puzzled by the readings. He glanced back at Dan with a frown.

"Give it one more shot. Keep the rodent in your pocket, this time."

Dan shrugged and complied. It seemed fairly obvious to him that his jumps wouldn't hurt Merrill, so why not? He lowered himself into a crouch, this time, fully expecting Merrill to fall the short distance from his pocket to the ground. Dan took a short glance at his target, just as a reminder, then closed his eyes and—

No squeak this time. He peeked open an eye, quickly confirming his position. Yup, right on target. He spun around, looking for Merrill. Something twitched in his pocket, and a fluffy white head poked out.

"It worked," Dan breathed, stunned.

"Of course it did," Doctor Mercury bellowed through his glass wall, "it was my idea!"

Dan rolled his eyes and stood up. "Great job, doctor. Maybe you could explain why it worked then? All we did was put her somewhere else."

"Of course I can explain it," Mercury shouted back. "But first, try jumping with that animal carrier over there." He pointed towards a nearby lab table, where Merrill's cage sat.

Dan trudged over to the cage, lifting it like the light piece of plastic that it was. He held it loosely by the handle, frowning at the old man hiding in a corner. "Like this?"

The doctor shouted a vague confirmation and pointed his radar gun in Dan's direction. Dan shrugged, and did as he was told.

Eyes closed focus focus focus, aaaand the cage was still in his hands. Dan stood still for a moment, not quite willing to check his position. Merrill squeaked what he hoped was encouragement at him, and he opened his eyes.

Inside the painted target: Check

Carrier in hand: Check

Mouse in pocket: Check

Dan let out a whoop of triumph. He could move things without moving! Physics was totally his bitch!

"Don't celebrate just yet," Doctor Mercury interjected. "You've got one more test. Do it again, but this time keep the mouse inside the cage."

Dan frowned. "Why? What would that accomplish?"

"You are releasing some sort of energy from within your body and coating yourself in it," the doctor explained. "When you teleport, the field extends just enough to snap over your clothes, which is why you were initially unable to bring along the mouse."

"But putting him in my pocket extended the field over him?" Dan asked incredulously.

"It did." Mercury nodded. "Your energy field seems to obey your will somewhat, since it extended itself over the cage, but it also conflicts with other living creatures. The first two jumps, your field just bounced off its skin. Once you put it in your pocket, your energy field was somehow able to overwhelm whatever natural defenses it has and dragged it with you. The process seems binary, too. You'll either force the creature along entirely or not at all."

"You made that sound so violent," Dan murmured to himself.

"It is violent," Mercury roared in reply. "I'd wager that if the energy you emit does not fully immerse itself in a non-living target, you can teleport away chunks of it. That's terrifying! Now, put the mouse in the cage! He'll either be fine, too far away from your body for your field to integrate him, or the cage will act like your pocket, surrounding him with your energy and bringing him along with you."

Dan slowly processed the explanation, rolling the words around in his head. He gave Doctor Mercury an awkward look.

"I have no idea what you just said." he admitted.

"Just do it!"

"Tch. Getting yelled at by old men to do work I don't understand, it's like I never left my old job." Dan muttered rebelliously. He gently lifted Merrill off his shoulder, and plunked her back inside her cage.

"Okay Merrill," he said softly, "we're gonna appear over there, and you are not going to explode, or get flayed, or have anything terrible happen to you."

A few friendly squeaks reassured him. Dan closed his eyes, crossed his fingers, and wished himself elsewhere.

"...Did it work?" he asked aloud. There were no angry squeals from across the room. The container in his hand held a familiar weight. He looked down, confirmed his position, then peeked inside the cage.

Merrill's poofy white face greeted him. Dan heaved a sigh of relief.

A loud screech echoed through the room as Mercury pushed aside his safety glass. The doctor gave his radar gun a shake, peering at its readings one last time, before approaching Dan.

"Your power propagates poorly through air," the old man explained. "I suspect you also have some sort of limit, be it weight or distance from your body. With all that empty space inside the cage, your field barely managed to bring the rat along. That said, surrounding your target seemed to help. I bet you could cup your hands around that pest and teleport it that way."

"Her name is Merrill," Dan said serenely, pulling her free of her cage and settling her back on his shoulder, "and I am adopting her before you kill her in some horrible experiment."

Mercury snorted, but didn't contest his claim. Instead, he pointed at Dan's face. "You can't keep closing your eyes whenever you teleport."

Dan scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "It helps me focus. Why does it matter?"

"The only publicly available teleportation upgrades requires line of sight to jump safely. That's true, to the best of my knowledge, just about anywhere." the doctor explained. "You'll stand out if you squeeze your eyes shut every single time you hop somewhere."

Dan shrugged carelessly, pleased that his power was unique. A hint of pride appeared in his voice. "So what? It's not like I care. Let them stare, it won't bother me."

"You should care. Power upgrades are heavily regulated before being released," Mercury said, his voice grave. "People who gain powers outside of official means are required to register on a watch list or face prosecution. Neither are attractive choices to a sensible person."

"You regulate your heroes?" Dan asked, aghast.

"This isn't a comic book," Mercury shook his head. "There are no heroes like you are thinking of. Our public servants have access to upgrades that the common populace doesn't, and they are perfectly capable of fending off any idiot with delusions of grandeur. There are actual threats, of course, including those so-called villains like you accused me of being, but there are special task forces that deal with such a thing."

The old man frowned. "In America, at least. I've been assuming that you are American, based on that accent."

"Texas," Dan admitted freely. He felt a horrifying epiphany descend as he processed the doctor's words.

"Right. Let me see if I understand you." Dan ticked a finger. "Powers are heavily regulated by the government, implying that everyone can acquire powers but they are all somewhat safe to society. Kind of like, what, prescription drugs?"

"More or less correct. There are a large variety of powers, though not everyone can afford them. It's a permanent process, so people tend to choose a sort that will help them in their professional life, rather than for recreation. That said, there is a tiny bit of wiggle room afterwards. Slight modifications can be made after the original upgrade, but they all would follow the same general theme," Mercury confirmed.

Dan nodded at the explanation and ticked a second finger. "The police have their own exclusive power sets, better than the general population in order to make their occupation possible. Presumably something that makes them stronger or tougher?" Dan remembered a particularly polite metal man.

"Not necessarily better," Mercury argued. "It's more like their upgrades are refined for a specific purpose, that being law enforcement. There are several different kinds, but most have some sort of physical resilience built in, yes. That's fairly common for the general public as well, though."

"Right," Dan ticked a third finger. "Finally, you have what sounds like the Navy Seals with superpowers, who deal with specific threats that I probably don't want to know about."

"Yes."

"And these highly trained professionals probably run around in camouflage and kevlar, barely interacting with the public?" Dan clarified.

"That is not an inaccurate description," Mercury admitted cautiously.

"So... you've got superpowers, but no superheroes?"

"No superheroes." The doctor's tone was final.

"What the hell is wrong with you people!?" Dan demanded.