Lyssa had the social nuance of a middle-schooler. Even she knew to not breach the subject when she saw the two come home. They always seemed inseparable. It was unsettling to finally see them separate.

“Everything okay?” Carrie asked what Lyssa dared not.

The silence was telling enough. Amelia went to her room. The door clicked shut with lethal quietude. Not even an outraged slam. That’s how one knew things were really bad.

“I acted on instinct,” Penny said. “I had a good reason. But there were good reasons not to as well. It was a right and wrong decision.”

“Which was it for you?” Carrie asked.

“Right for me,” Penny replied. She sat heavily on the living room chair. “Selfish of me.”

“She’ll turn around,” Carrie said.

“She will.” Then, more quietly, “But one day she won’t. And she shouldn’t. I need to stop jumping into things. But ever since…” Penny stopped talking. “It’s my problem. Good night, girls.”

And so Lyssa and Carrie had the room again.

“Jeez,” Lyssa said.

“Could cut it with a knife, huh?” Carrie said. “But I suppose if what you’ve been telling me is true, you could find out what she’s talking about.”

“I’m not going to use telepathy to spy on anyone,” Lyssa said. “I can’t anyway. My telepathy is the hardest gift to wrangle, and-”

“Have you?”

“Against my will, yes.”

“On me?”

“A little…”

“How much do you know?”

“Nothing that wasn’t obvious,” Lyssa said assuringly. “I have more sessions planned with the Director himself. We’ll get my gifts under control.”

Carrie sighed. She placed both hands on the table, balled firmly together.

“Lyssa, I think you’re being used,” she said.

“I’m not particularly useful.”

“Have you seen the clips that are out there of you?”

“That… I haven’t, but that wasn’t really me in control.”

“But you were in control. At the bridge. When Giantsbane was guarding the crossing.”

“For a minute!”

“For one minute you crowd controlled the US military, girl! You don’t think Director Whitworth would want someone like that under his wing?”

Lyssa frowned. “What do you know about him?”

“Uh, only the Wikileaks? If we discount the presidents of the United States, the man’s basically the biggest war criminal in the West.”

“Well I need the help. I need the structure,” Lyssa said. “Do you know what it’s like to be me? The constant noise. I have to constantly distinguish between what I’m thinking and what they’re thinking. I have to consciously push them aside. But apparently, when I do, they do things I’m not even aware of.”

“I know, Lyssa. I understand.” Carrie contemplated as she took a deep breath. “I just… I just don’t know if you want structure from someone with so much responsibility. It’s not Whitworth’s job to care for your wellbeing. The man is in charge of dozens of superheroes and an entire institution, not just in this city.”

“I can’t trust a therapist, Carrie,” Lyssa said. “I’ve been to them before. They’re not trained to help. They-” Her brow furrowed deeply.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t remember,” Lyssa said. “I know I’ve been to therapy. I just can’t recall specifically when. Or what happened. I- I’m gonna go to bed. It’s a weekday.”

“Sleep well,” Carrie said.

Lyssa knew she wouldn’t. When was the last time she had a good night’s sleep? She couldn’t remember that either. The red digital clock by her bed read 1:00 by the time she laid down. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark enough where even the city’s night light became an intrusion. Rays of dark blue and the shifting reds, yellows, and greens of the streets outside kept her awake. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she closed her eyes and her breathing slowed.

Then they opened again.

Lyssa sat up in her bed. For a second, she did nothing. She looked around her room with deliberate turns of her head, then down at her hands. She flexed her fingers experimentally. Her lips stretched into a toothy grin.

“Finally,” she said.

--

Henry caught Paulo outside staring at the night sky again. He sat beside the young man, a tiny figure next to gifted muscle. He laid a six-pack between them and cracked one for himself.

“You can barely see the stars here,” Paulo said. “Too much pollution, even with all the electric vehicles.”

“The source of that power needs to be clean too,” Henry said. “For the longest time people wanted electric cars, but were afraid of nuclear.”

“I used to think people were stupid. But maybe the truth was there’s only so much the average man could keep in their scope at a time. That if a strong enough, smart enough, compassionate enough leader were to reduce a big problem onto a small enough scope, everyone would want to support it. Most people in this country seem to care about two things: their job and their house. I don’t have a role, and I’ve lost my house. And now I realize that even in this, I am not different or unique.

“The murderer of my father and my sisters does not care about what she had done. She did not even take pleasure in it. I would have preferred that over… apathy.”

“Really?”

“I don’t know.” Paulo took a can for himself. “How many of these so-called supervillains have tried to take down America?”

“A lot,” Henry said, chuckling. “I don’t know if Rachminau counts, don’t think he had a plan of any kind. Aquarius tried to flood New York, killed ten thousand or so before Victory punched him so hard it vaporized him in his liquid form. Terralight tried to cover an entire state with his megaspores and indestructible trees.” Henry tilted his head knowingly. “Also punched by Victory. The closest anyone has gotten was in the 2010s by someone named Partisan. The man was a category 7 telepath. Turns out for years he had been influencing news purveyors to lean politically in a particular direction, driving Americans against Americans.”

“Did Victory punch him too?”

“No, Cormigieu- the M.A.G.E Director I mean, found him eventually. Probably has him buried so deep he’s forgotten the concept of light.”

“Why not just kill him?”

Henry shook his head. “You have to be careful killing psychics. For a well-trained, powerful one, their bodies are more like chains than roots.”

“What a dramatic place to live,” Paulo remarked.

“Could hardly blame people for retreating into those games, watching barely legal teens beat each other up in spandex. Pay too much attention and the truth would turn anyone mad.” Henry frowned and retrieved his buzzing phone from his jacket’s pocket.

“What’s wrong?” Paulo asked.

“My employers,” Henry said. “This is the general comms. Something is going on in one of their hideouts. I have to go.” He stood to his feet and began to leave, then stopped in his tracks. “Actually, why don’t you come along?”

“Me?” Paulo pointed at himself.

“Yeah, sure, the boss is always looking for disgruntled people to recruit. It might get you closer to your enemies.”

“What makes your boss any different than the previous would-be conquerors of the land of the free?”

Henry smiled. “For starters, he’s not a villain. He’s a hero who disagrees with the CEOR.”

“A man who thinks he is better than the law,” Paulo said. “What could go wrong?” He stood to his feet and stretched his arms. “When do I start?”