“Six thousand dollars of power tools, twice that in structural damage to the building-”

“It was like, one single little display of the things! There is no way I destroyed that much crap!” Breakdown spat back instantly.

“We’ll never know because it literally doesn’t exist anymore. Which means we have to eat whatever costs the business sends our way, no matter how ridiculous.” Her boss - the current Guildmaster for the Greater Toronto Area - returned in a tired, put upon tone of voice. Contrary to common popular belief, Hero’s didn’t have ultra high tech, impossible to hack communication devices. What they did have was access to all the legal requirements to form a Guild, which was a minimum requirement for access to the private messaging system.

It was incredibly handy, even if they did spend hours drilling the importance of lifting her hand to her ear ‘as if using a communicator’ whenever she was doing it. Mostly so that normal people didn’t misunderstand, but also as a way of signalling to others that you were basically ‘on the phone’ at the time.

“Well what was I supposed to do, just let him get away with it? I had him! He was right there!” She complained, though there wasn’t much heat in it. She was mostly just tired and annoyed. Also, desperately in need of a shower. She had ended up getting thrown through the paint aisle at one point, and despite being able to vaporize most of the mess covering her once Adrenaline had escaped, she still felt sticky.

“Yes! Absolutely! You know we specifically asked you not to fight the guy anymore! Your parents will literally kill me if you get hurt, and we can’t afford to keep paying for everything you break!” Guildmaster insisted.

She felt her jaw clench at that word. ‘Asked’. Not told, not ordered, asked. It bothered her because even though she hated coasting on the reputation and influence of her parents, she still ended up doing it anyway, even when it was only so that she could help people, or do her job better. If she was a normal level five, she had no doubt she would have been pulled from running in public and given dungeon duty for the next six months as a punishment for this entire fiasco.

She didn’t voice any of that out loud though. Because both she and Guildmaster already knew it. They both knew it, because this was a conversation she had nearly bi-monthly with the older man - much to both of their chagrin.

“I’m level five. There’s no way I’d lose a fight against a coward like Adrenaline.” She put forth placatingly, glancing at her assigned sidekick, who was standing pointedly over the guy they had found embedded in the front wall of the building after all was said and done.

She’d needed to fish one of her potions out of her inventory to make sure the guy survived at negative hit points, and was still sort of on the fence about reporting him. On the one hand, he seemed like he had been trying to help, and Adrenaline had obviously been preoccupied enough with him to reveal that he was already level three. If she was less cautious or perhaps just more naive, she might have assumed he was another Hero who just happened to be in the building at a bad time. If that was the case, then by rights he could wake up and make his own report.

If he wasn’t a registered hero though, then things would get complicated. More importantly, they would be out of her hands. They might let her fight the guy when she managed to reach him, but the research and investigation teams trying to puzzle out Adrenalines civilian identity would never let her anywhere near him.

So the health potion expenditure was going to get filed under ‘personal injury’, and a polite request from the police would get her his address and name.

For later, of course.

Right now she had other things to deal with.

“Levels don’t mean shit. They’re just numbers. You’d lose to a stealth build every time, so don’t try to act like you’re immortal. If you were so much better than him he wouldn’t keep getting away.” Guildmaster cautioned her.

She knew that, but thought it was a stupid argument to make when Adrenaline definitely wasn’t one of her hard counters.

“Yeah, well. I found out he’s hit level three today. I think his Personal Skill has some kind of class change aspect to it. He was fighting me like a brawler, not a caster. Half the damage in there is from us bouncing eachother off the walls while we fought.” She reported. She really didn’t want to report that part, because it meant his priority level would go up, and she’d need a group to respond to him in the future - but it was too dangerous not to pass the information along.

Personal Skills were dangerous that way. They had huge - sometimes daily - cooldowns, but they were specifically tailored to the way you fought, and public perception of you. They also completely broke the rules in most cases, which was why you couldn’t fight someone who had one alone. A well-timed use of one could turn a hopeless battle into a trivial task, and most people hid what they could do - even from their allies.

She had two of them herself, gained at level three and five respectively, but they were entirely defensive in nature, so they weren’t that useful when what she needed was to put someone down quickly and without killing them.

Which was a running theme for her powers.

“Shit. Give a full description when you get back and let the theorycrafting department work on it. I have to take another call - do not skip the interview Break. Reporters are expensive.” Guildmaster said forcefully - before abruptly disconnecting from the chat.

She grimaced at that, eyeing her sidekick again.

If she could get away with foisting the whole interview off on Atomic Karate, she would. He was a chatty kid, and despite his Death Knight class and Corruption attunement, very chipper and friendly.

He was also the type of idiot who ignored the recommended list of class and attunement combinations to pick a complete unknown, which was why he was only a sidekick.

His complete lack of nonlethal abilities was why she had been saddled with him, and there were definitely some days she regretted that, but he at least tried to be a hero, which was more than she could say about a lot of her peers.

“Atomic. Interview crew is on the way. Do you want to take the lead?” She asked brightly, stepping around a pair of paramedics as they bustled past her to get inside the building. They completely ignored the unconscious guy her spiky blond haired sidekick was looming over. In the absence of proof to show he was a villain, she’d really hate to get him outed by a hospital's complete inability to get a normal IV into him.

So she had lied a little to the police and said she had used her powers to protect him, and that he just needed a bit to wake up.

“F’real? After the last time I thought-“ the overly muscular young adult responded, perking up and turning to her.

“The last time you made everyone in the studio think you were irradiating them while trying to show off one of your skills.” She cut him off, gesturing at the flamboyant red karate gi covered in stenciled flames with a garish neon yellow radioactive symbol on the back he wore as a costume.

“Just be slightly less… yourself… and you’ll be fine.” She said with a strained smile.

One of the most unpleasant parts of her job was the reality that some people mattered more than others. You got the chance at a Personal Skill at level three, then every numbered level thereafter - but only if public perception of you had reached a certain minimum level. Most lesser known heroes didn’t get one until much later in their careers without outside assistance - like she’d had.

Even now, the continued preference of the news networks for following her career was a result of pressure from above to make sure she kept advancing. New blood Meta’s like Atomic didn’t have connections like that though.

So, if she was going to be benefiting from her heritage anyway, she might as well share the love as it were.

She just had to make sure he didn’t do something insanely stupid like cast 'Rend Soul' in front of a live studio audience, while declaring it his 'Atomic Fist of Justice'.

Again.

“Hey, the ladies love ‘myself’! I got a target audience is all, you know?” Atomic smiled widely at her. She rolled her eyes at his antics, but smiled a little back.

“Come on, let me coach you on it a bit before they get here. I’ll follow up with this guy when he wakes up.” She offered, leading her sidekick away with one finally glance over her shoulder at the unnamed meta who’d picked a fight with Adrenaline, before reorienting her focus on helping her sidekick out.

He was an idiot, but he was her idiot. John Doe wasn’t going anywhere, any time soon.