"So, fancy magazines-"

"Comic books."

"Right, comic books - they're not real?"

Stitches and Amber were attempting to explain the concept of fictitious writing to Bain while Mike practically skipped along, totally unconcerned with the potential havoc he'd caused. They were almost back to the surface at this point, and Bain was still trying to process it all.

Amber patted him on the shoulder, reaching up so she could manage the admittedly difficult feat. "No, they're not. Comics are made as a sort of fake story, so you can learn about stuff like..." She strove around for a moment, attempting to find the proper wording.

Bain found it for her. "Like love and friendship."

She nodded repeatedly. "Exactly! Although those comics aren't usually all that highly rated."

He frowned, his forehead creasing. "Why not? Those are really important things to know about. I've tried to get Nahma to read them several times, but he doesn't like them all that much."

This was completely true. Ever since he'd found a heap of comics lying in a dumpster, he'd had Nahma teach him how to read using street signs and subway directions. He'd then torn through his entire supply and insisted that the ancient centipede read them along with him. Nahma had blatantly refused. He could handle Bain's positivity and optimism. He couldn't stand it from the brightly dressed denizens of Amigopolis.

Stitches snorted loudly at the thought. "I can only imagine."

Mike was walking along, tapping his thigh with his fingers at a rapid pace, when he spun to Bain, still moving backward. "Yo, Bain! I almost forgot! Tomorrow's my parents' anniversary, you gotta come."

Bain was surprised. "Are you sure? Aren't anniversaries a private thing?"

Mike shrugged it off with a wave. "Nah, bro, they'd totally dig ya. You're plenty cool for me, so you're plenty cool for them too. Get it? Anyway," he continued without allowing Bain to answer. "You gotta visit, man! They'd love ya."

It didn't take Bain very long to come up with an answer. There were more people that didn't avoid him? "Sure! That sounds like fun."

Stitches cut in. "Not to interrupt the invite party or anything, but are we almost out? I'm getting tired of tunnels."

Bain nodded, pulling himself up through a hole in the ceiling that no one had noticed, earthy roots protruding around it. "Yeah, this is the top - whoa!"

The humans glanced at each other and then climbed up through the hole to see Bain looking down the tunnel, a massive white form retreating away from them. Bain was scratching his head. "That spider keeps showing up, but I don't know if it's a monster or if it's just a really big spider."

Amber stared at him. "That was a spider? I thought it was a car."

Mike shrugged. "Spiders are cool too. Not as tasty as rats by a long shot, though."

Bain agreed wholeheartedly. "Right? Rats have way more flavor."

Mike waved a hand in a so-so gesture. "Ehhh, technically spiders have more flavor, it's just a sucky flavor." Bain paused for a moment, considering the information and filing it away.

Stitches shivered. "Can we just get out of here? This place has got bad memories attached to it."

Bain nodded. "Right, forgot. The exit's just up here."

It was only a few minutes before natural light began seeping into the tunnels, producing a strange effect that made their flashlights look dim and fake. Technology had advanced quite a lot over the years, but there wasn't much that got more basic than a good old-fashioned flashlight. As they'd been walking, the rough stone had slowly transitioned into bricks, the old and now-soft material clicking underneath Bain's talons.

Turning the corner, they saw sunlight flooding down a set of brick stairs, leading up to the surface. Mike was the first to sprint up the stairs despite the fact they'd been walking for over an hour. Yes, Bain knew the fastest way to the surface, but three floors still meant they'd been several hundred feet down.

The others followed suit, wincing as their eyes adjusted to the bright light, and they all inhaled deeply at the same time. Nothing was quite like fresh air after a long time underground. They were on Sixty-Fourth and Mark, if the signs were to be believed.

Mike didn't waste any time. Launching himself upward with an eardrum-breaking blast, he shouted to Bain, "Don't forget about tomorrow! I'll come wake you up!" With that, he shot off in a series of exponentially more powerful explosions, vanishing into the distance.

Amber held a hand over her eyes, trying to follow his movement and failing. With a sigh, she turned to Bain and Stitches. "Well, I should get going. Firepower's probably waiting for me on the patrol." Firing off a casual salute, she waved a taxi down and hopped inside. Sure, flight was a flashy way to get around, but Centropolis taxis were crazier drivers than any supervillain and could be unreliably relied upon to get you where you were trying to get to in record time.

Granted, you'd probably lose your lunch on the way, but the speed was worth it.

Stitches shoved his hands in his pockets, turning to Bain. "Welp, I guess it's just you and me now." A thought crossed his mind, and grinned hugely. "Actually, there's someone I want you to meet back at the Tower."

Bain tilted his head curiously. "Are they nice?"

Stitches thought about it for a moment. "Well..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"YOU ROTTING PIECE OF CRAP."

The short woman storming towards them seemed less nice than what Bain had been expecting.

After they'd returned to the Tower, they'd boarded an elevator and gone down a few floors, into one of the sub-basements. There, Bain had been stunned to find a pristine white lab, the ceiling covered in a strange grid and littered workstations located in apparently random places. A variety of robots and technology was visible, albeit in various stages of testing and/or construction when the infuriated yell had hit Bain's hearing.

The woman was probably five foot four, if you were being generous, and sported a massive poof of red hair pulled into an equally explosive ponytail. She was wearing grease-stained cargo pants, pockets overflowing with tools, denim overalls liberally coated in oil, a pair of disposable black gloves hanging out of the front pocket, and a thunderous expression. Her small green eyes were currently squinted into slits.

Stitches approached her, spreading his hands wide. "Tinker! How are you doing, you gorgeous lady?"

Bain was more than a little startled. "Why are you talking so wei - Did you say Tinker?"

The legendary hero had been building gadgets and gizmos for Centropolis denizens for over a decade, and her work permeated every inch of the Tower. The auto-repair bots, the police-operated arrestoids - almost every high-quality robot in Centropolis was designed by the grumpy woman in front of him.

Tinker glanced at Bain and her bushy eyebrows crashed into each other. With a roar, she grabbed Stitches by the shirt and yanked him down to eye level. "Stitches, EXPLAIN NOW."

Stitches gave a strained chuckle, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. "Heh. Well, you see-"

She didn't bother letting him finish. "Never mind, you'd take too long. You! What are you doing here?" She directed the question at Bain, her fiery eyes practically pinning him to the wall like a bug.

He shrank back, his inner fanboy conflicting against the fear his instincts were firing at him. "Uh - I don't really know. Stitches said he had a surprise for me."

Tinker swung back to the hapless zombie, jutting her jaw out aggressively. "Is that so? By all means, Stitches, what's the surprise?"

Almost cowering under her piercing stare, he tried to explain. "Uhhh, yeah. I was hoping you could build Bain a replacement arm."

He pointed at Bain's stump, and Tinker eye's impossibly narrowed further as she examined him. Snapping her fingers, a massive circular device sped over to them, traveling across the ceiling and coming to a stop directly above Bain. Looking up at it, Bain asked, "What's-"

The device released a bone-rattling THOOM, vibrating Bain until he felt like his eyes were about to pop out. Thankfully, the gadget ceased and moved away without further preamble. He shook his head. "What was-"

Tinker raised a hand in an obvious 'shut up' gesture as she examined what appeared to be a holographic watch. She waved them away a moment later. "Fine. I'll have the arm ready in three weeks. Come back then. Or don't, I don't care." She began turning away, going back to whatever project she'd been occupied with.

While Stitches was getting up, cautiously trying to avoid the irate woman, Bain's eyes widened. "Three weeks? That can't be possible!"

As the words echoed around the room, Bain realized every person in the room had fallen silent, staring at him with shock decked across their faces.

Tinker swung back around to face him, stomping forward and looking him in the eye. "Come again?"

Bain blinked. Had he said something wrong? "Well... three weeks is-"

She cut him off, eyes ablaze. "Too much time? Think ya could get it done faster?"

Bain backpedaled rapidly, trying to find out where he'd gone wrong. "No, not at all! I just-"

Tinker interrupted him again. "A week. I can get it done in a week, but that's as early as I can manage, all right?"

He waved his arms in a panic, almost knocking a stack of huge batteries over in his panic. "Wha - there's no way you can-"

At this point, he should have known better to say anything. A mechanical arm whizzed over and forced him to a knee, so that he was on eye level with the now-apoplectic mechanic. "Listen here, punk." She spoke to him through gritted teeth. "Get back here tomorrow morning at nine or I WILL RIP YOUR OTHER ARM OFF!!!"

He shrank back, eyes wide with fear, and she released him, turning to her crew. "LISTEN UP, YA LAZY MEATBAGS! We're putting everything on hold 'til this thing's arm is done, y'hear? ANY QUESTIONS?"

Nobody working in the lab was stupid enough or inexperienced enough to tell her otherwise, and immediately dropped what they were doing to help out, pacing through the lab with focused expertise, fetching materials and programming furiously as Tinker roared out instructions.

Bain got back to his feet and glanced at Stitches, wide-eyed. "What just happened?"

Stitches shrugged. "If I had to guess, I'd say you're getting another arm."