A new day dawned over Central City. Nico awoke with a start. He looked at the clock - 7:12 AM. Whew. He hadn’t overslept. He’d set the alarm for 7:15, intending to get up early enough to meet Piper at Gramps’ workshop before they headed to the office.

“Ugh…” he yawned.

He sat up in bed. The room around him was dimly lit by the morning light which glowed through the shabby window curtain. The floor was covered in the debris left by innumerable days of neglect. Empty soda cans, once stacked carefully into a tall pyramid, now lay in a heap next to the trash can. A small television, its screen covered in dust, rested on the dresser in one corner, some of whose drawers hung open. A rusted weight set in the opposite corner was completely free of dust from regular use. Piled next to the weights was a stack of books on fighting techniques that Nico had obtained from secondhand stores around the city.

Nico swung his legs around, now sitting on the edge of his small bed. He hadn’t bothered making the bed in weeks. He preferred the comfortable feel of snuggling into the mess of unfolded blankets. A visitor might have thought Nico was a slob, and he would have to admit they were correct, but it hadn’t always been this way. In the final corner of his small bedroom was a desk sporting more dust than even the television. Everything below that dust, though, was carefully organized.

His eyes rested on the pinstripe button-down. The dress shirt was resting on the back of a folding chair near the weight bench. Its brand-new second stripe filled him with a thrill of anticipation. After another moment, he stood and left the room.

The rest of the house was just as shabby as his small bedroom. A residential archeologist might have noted the technology and trinkets of a home which would have been state-of-the-art a decade or so ago. Now most of the tech was busted, and most of the trinkets were buried under the clutter. Every window was covered by curtains in the same shabby condition as the one in Nico’s bedroom. Every shelf was covered in just as much dust as his desk.

The kitchen was in much better condition than the rest of the house. Most of the cupboard doors were perpetually open, exploding their almost universal emptiness. Only one shelf held anything of note, and it was this shelf Nico visited, pouring himself a bowl of bargain bin cereal. He munched on the hasty breakfast in silence, washed up quickly in the tiny bathroom, then returned to his bedroom and dressed for the day.

Goosebumps rippled down his body as he pulled on the button-down. For a moment he wondered if it needed to be cleaned, but a quick sniff at the underarm pleasantly surprised him. He remembered a Clothiers advertisement he had seen in a commercial a few years before...

...and don’t worry about cleaning! Clothiers brand business attire lets you stand up to even the most dangerous business rivals - including your own sweat and body odors! That’s right - our business attire keeps you fresh and clean, even in the dirtiest work environments!

Nico smiled a bit as he buttoned the shirt, thinking of Piper. Even if Gramps’ shirt was self-cleaning like those made by The Clothiers, he was determined to remain vigilant. The last thing he wanted was for her to comment on his B.O.

Nico was just about to leave the house when he paused, his hand on the front doorknob. He hesitated, then walked back down the hall, past the door to his bedroom, past another closed door decorated with stickers, toward one last closed door. His stomach squirmed with unease.

Nico didn’t enter the room. There was an almost physical force that kept him here, halfway between worlds, unable to open the door but unwilling to back away. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t have the words.

He stood there for a long time before quietly nodding to himself, bowing, turning around, and walking out.

***

“Yeah, yeah! Cool it, kid, will ya?” Gramps complained. Someone - probably Piper, he thought - was knocking on the door to his workshop. He slid open the peephole cover and looked out. Sure enough, it was Piper. Not sure whether he was irritated or amused, he slid the cover shut and unlocked the door.

Piper flounced inside. Tux followed her a moment later, moving with brisk grace. They both seemed to be in high spirits.

“Sleep well?” Gramps grunted, closing and relocking the door.

“Yep!” Piper said with a smile. “Nico should be here any minute. He’s got a surprise for you!”

“A surprise? Wait… he didn’t…”

“Just wait for it!” Piper beamed. “Don’t spoil it.”

Gramps chuckled. “Yeah, alright.” He looked at Tux. “And how are you, pussy cat?”

The tabby made a big show of paying him no mind, but after a moment reluctantly replied, “Well rested, unlike you seem to be, elder human.”

“Least I’m in a good mood, unlike some cats I could name.”

Tux blinked. “I am in high spirits.”

“Right... Anyway. Piper. I want to show you something.”

Piper’s eyes sparkled. “Oh?”

Gramps smiled, jerking his head toward one of the large sewing machines. The machine rested on one end of a long table. Its pearly white finish had been kept in impeccable condition by regular cleaning, so that it almost seemed to glow. Baskets of cloth and materials, and containers of thread, buttons, needles, thimbles, and more, were arranged haphazardly all around the machine.

“I got up early and started working on a new idea,” Gramps said. “I’ve been trying to recreate the method I used to create that pinstripe button-down for years, but it’s never worked since. There’s something still missing.” His brow furrowed in concentration. “Something that’s not in my notes from when I made the button-down for my son.”

Piper looked a little uncomfortable. “Yeah, Nico told me about that. I’m really sorry, Gramps.”

The old man shrugged, but his jaw tightened and his eyes looked far away for a moment. “It happened. But thank you.” He shook himself off. “Anyway, I just can’t figure it out. You know what’s crazy, Piper?”

“What?”

“That time, when I made the pinstripe shirt… It was my first try.”

Piper gasped. “Really?”

Gramps nodded. “First try ever. I had never attempted to make a powerful fashion statement before I made that shirt for my son, and that very first time was also the only time I’ve succeeded.”

He sighed, looking around the workshop. His eyes roved over the racks of clothing, the sewing machines, the boxes and the baskets and the cords. Piper thought he looked very tired and very old. She approached him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“You can do it,” she said fervently.

Gramps just nodded. Then he turned, walking along the table. Piper noticed many scraps of sewn fabric arranged in careful rows. Gramps chose one of the scraps and held it out to her. She took it. It was soft, almost silken to the touch, but it looked as tough as denim. The fabric was a deep violet color, and it shimmered ever so slightly as her fingers moved it.

“That’s so pretty!” Piper grinned.

“Thanks.”

Piper offered the cloth back to Gramps, and he returned it to the table. “If - uh, when I succeed at making a powerful fashion statement for you, what do you think of that color?”

“I love it.”

Gramps returned Piper’s smile. “You feeling better today?” He asked.

A shadow passed over Piper’s face, just for an instant. She seemed to recover immediately. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m better.”

Just then, there came another knock on the door. Piper answered, letting Nico inside. He looked a bit tired, but also very excited.

“Gramps!” he said, turning to show the old man his right sleeve.

Gramps’ mouth fell open, then spread into a jubilant smile. “You did it! It really worked!”

“Yeah! It happened after I left last night!”

“This is wonderful! I - I -” Tears were starting to stream down the old man’s cheeks. His shoulders shook.

“Gramps! Are you alright?” Piper asked, alarmed. Nico looked concerned as well. They each put an arm around him, holding him in a big hug. Tux sprang onto Piper’s hat and rested a paw on Gramps’ head. The old man wept silently. Then, gradually, his hitching breaths calmed and he wiped his eyes, clearing his throat with gruff coughs.

“I’m alright,” he grunted. “Thanks.”

“What’s wrong?” Piper asked.

“It’s nothing. I just… I always believed it would work of course, but… anyway. I’m fine. I’m fine.”

Nico nodded. His eyes landed on the picture of Wyatt Coller and his son Bruce that hung on the wall. He felt a sudden sense of responsibility as he looked at the picture. He felt the cloth of the button-down against his skin, very aware of the sensation of its folds brushing his back as he moved, of its buttoned cuffs snugly wrapped around his wrists. There was a burden he now carried that he hadn’t realized before. A legacy.

It’s a very special piece of business attire, Nico. It’s the only one like it in the world. It was made with the passion of a father’s love. I wanted more than anything for my son to have the strength to chase his dreams, and to have the hunger for knowledge that makes men truly wise.

Nico looked at Gramps, who was still snuffling a bit but seemed to have otherwise recovered. His eyes met Piper’s, and she returned his look with one of determination. She gave him one strong nod, then returned her attention to Gramps.

Nico’s fire had flared, and she had seen it. He could feel ambition burning through his body like liquid fire, nervous energy prickling between his shoulder blades, strength pulsing down his arms. Tux sprang down from Piper’s hat and approached him, looking up at him with curiosity.

“You are ready for battle,” the tabby cat observed. She licked one of her forepaws.

“Yeah,” Nico said. “I guess I am.”

***

Nico and Piper didn’t have much time until they had to leave for the office, but none of the crew of four wanted to miss out on the big reveal. The question burned in all their minds, but in none more so than Nico’s and Gramps’. They all stood on the rooftop, unsure how to proceed.

Piper looked at her phone.

“We’re almost out of time, Nico. Should we do this after work?”

Nico shook his head. “Nah, I want to know now. I need to be ready in case Elizabeth decides to come back and fire me.”

“I don’t think she will,” said Piper. “That doesn’t seem her style.”

Nico shrugged. “Either way, I need to find out so I can train. Maybe there’s something I can do at the office to improve even more.”

“So… How do we tell?” Piper asked Gramps.

The old man shook his head. “Experimentation is the only way, I think - at least, if you really can’t tell, Nico?”

“I can’t,” Nico replied. “I felt some sort of... something from the shirt when the second stripe appeared, but I have no idea what it actually did.”

“Well, there are a few basic possibilities,” Gramps said. “The button-down’s first stripe enhanced your strength. We know that much because it had the same effect on you as it did on my son back in the day.”

“But he moves faster too,” Piper pointed out.

“Yeah, but that’s just from brute force. His body is stronger, so it can push harder and move faster. Remember what you told me about that fight against the Regional Director? Elizabeth? You told me that she moved faster than Nico, that it looked like she would just appear behind him. That is the kind of speed we’re talking about.”

“But she was really strong, too,” Piper said, looking a little frustrated.

Gramps nodded. “That would make sense, but again, it’s a side effect. Like Nico’s enhanced speed. The faster you can move, the harder you can hit. If this Elizabeth girl is as smart as she sounds, she’s probably mastered the art of rationing her speed in combat so that she can give her hits more firepower at just the right moments.”

“I see,” said Tux, who was lounging on the ledge once again. “So you are saying, elder, that while an article of business attire may grant only one power, that power can be used for other purposes.”

“Exactly,” the old man smiled. “Which means that your bow tie might be useful for more than just speech, Tux.”

The cat mewed, looking contemplative. Gramps said, “The basic power types can be boiled down to four main categories: Strength, Speed, Durability, and Influence. There are many other kinds of powers that business attire can grant, but those tend to be more specialized and expensive, so you don’t often see them outside the executive levels.”

The old man continued, “Strength and Speed are pretty self-explanatory, but like with all fashion powers, there are many different kinds and levels of strength and speed. Durability is more defensive-”

“Like my blazer!” Piper chimed in. Gramps nodded.

“Yeah. But durability isn’t always just a physical skill, the same way strength and speed aren’t always physical. Many fashion powers have mental aspects. So for example, there are some fashion powers that give workers the mental endurance to work longer hours. That’s a form of durability, but instead of protecting against physical blows, it’s protecting against exhaustion.”

“I’ve seen advertisements for that,” said Nico. “It’d be nice to not have to sleep, I could train faster.”

Gramps shook his head. “You would say that. But those people still have to sleep eventually. And when they do, their bodies take time to recover. Everything comes with a price. Especially power.”

“What about the last one?” Piper asked. “Influence?”

“Ah, see, that’s the most dangerous power of all,” Gramps said. His voice was lower, more serious. “Influence takes many forms. Most of the time, Influence powers help with things like charisma. They make it easier to tell jokes, to lead meetings, or to remember birthdays. Simple stuff. But then there’s the nasty stuff. Manipulation. Deception. Forgery. I’ve even heard rumors that executives at the highest levels can force their will on other people.”

Nico felt a chill run down his spine.

“In your case, Nico,” Gramps sighed, “I don’t think your second stripe gave you an Influence power. That’s not wisdom talking, it’s just a hunch, but I think you would have been able to calm me down faster when I was choking up earlier.”

“Oh, no, sorry, I-”

“Don’t apologize,” Gramps said, his eye twinkling. “You all made me feel a lot better just as you are. I’m just trying to say that Influence powers tend to change a person’s behavior in subtle ways, and you’ve been totally yourself all morning.”

Nico nodded. “Got it. So then… It’s probably either Strength, Speed, or Durability.”

“Correct.”

Tux meowed. “Enough preamble, friends. Please do something already.”

Everyone laughed, except of course for Tux, who looked indignant. “I’m just saying, this conversation is getting dull!” she said.

Piper chuckled. She turned to Nico. “Alright, Mr. CEO,” she said, “Let’s figure this out. Come at me!”

Nico obliged. He sprinted at Piper with all the speed he could muster, but she easily dodged him, just like last night.

“It’s not speed!” She said.

Nico nodded, thinking. “Hit me,” he told Piper. “Let’s test Durabili-OOF!”

Before he’d even finished speaking, Piper fired off a quick punch to Nico’s gut that made him double over. “Sorry! Sorry!” Piper cried. Her laughter made her concern seem somewhat insincere, but Nico just groaned.

“Right,” he coughed. “Not durability. Great.”

“That means all that’s left is strength!” Piper said brightly.

“How do we test that?” Nico asked, catching his breath. “Do I punch a brick or something?”

Piper paused, lost in thought. Gramps said, “I don’t think so, Nico. Based on the way you sent Rudy flying, I don’t think there’s any doubt you could break a whole stack of bricks with the first stripe alone.”

“You moved no faster today than yesterday,” Tux commented.

“Good point!” Gramps said. “If the second stripe made you stronger, you probably would have moved faster than yesterday, even if you weren’t as fast as if it gave you the power of Speed. So I think it’s pretty safe to rule out Strength as well.”

Nico coughed. Piper looked a little guilty, but only a little. “So… what does that mean?” She asked. “He doesn’t have any of the four basic powers?”

Gramps shook his head. “We can’t say for sure yet, but I would be surprised if the second stripe didn’t give him one of the four basic powers. Or, at least, a variation of one. Remember, each power can manifest in different ways.” He turned to Nico. “You might not have run faster, but you could have less obvious forms of Strength or Speed. And even though Piper gave you a solid punch, it’s possible you got a mental form of Durability, or physical protection against something less obvious than blunt damage.”

Nico rubbed his temples. “How do I figure it out, then?” He asked.

Gramps shook his head. “Just have to keep experimenting, I guess. Keep training. Remember, you learn more from your failures than from your successes.”

“Right,” Nico said.

“Oh shit!” Piper yelped. She held up her phone. “We’re twenty minutes late! I totally lost track of time, damn it!”

“Shit! Let’s go!” Nico cried.

The two of them rushed through the roof access door and down the stairs. Gramps laughed heartily. Tux meowed, then curled up for a nap.

***

Thompson was barely paying attention to the computer screen in front of him. His heart was racing with excitement. His leg bounced rapidly, and he couldn’t stop smiling. He snuck furtive glances over the computer monitor toward the receptionist’s desk, where a man stood dressed in a plain black suit.

The man was tall and thin. The suit he wore looked too large for his lanky body. The receptionist, a young woman named Tammy, had moved her chair as far away from the man as possible. She looked unnaturally focused on her own computer screen, clearly uncomfortable.

The thin man leaned back against the reception desk, letting his greasy long hair fall back from his face. His eyes looked dark and haunted. He was staring at the ceiling, and then, quite suddenly, those haunted eyes were staring right back at Thompson. Thompson looked away with a start, trying to look busy.

Thompson wondered how much longer the man, who had introduced himself as being from Human Resources, would wait for Nico to arrive. Surely, surely, Nico would be fired today. He was 30 minutes late on his third day as Supervisor. Thompson didn’t dare to ask the HR man if his email from the previous day was the cause of this visit.

The office door burst open, and everyone except for the HR employee looked up to see Nico and Piper rushing inside, panting and laughing.

“Sorry we’re late!” Piper said, “we, uh, ran into bad traffic!”

At this, they both fell into a fit of giggles. Indignant rage coursed through Thompson. He looked at the HR employee, waiting for the lanky man to take action, to demand why the Supervisor was so late to work, to fire Nico and Piper on the spot.

Instead, the HR employee leaned forward, slowly stepping away from the receptionist’s desk - much to Tammy’s ill-disguised relief - and stuck his hands in his trouser pockets. His back arched forward in an odd way as he did so, making his body look almost deformed. His greasy hair hung over his eyes once more.

“Alright,” Nico panted, “Let’s uh… get to work.” He winked at Piper, who smirked and nodded back. They both turned to enter the Supervisor’s office, seeming not to notice the HR employee at all.

But the HR employee’s posture suddenly changed as Nico’s right side turned toward him. He seemed to twitch - like a spider, Thompson instinctively thought - and his head snapped toward Nico with unnatural quickness.

“Mr. Pinstripe?” the HR employee said softly. His voice was high and ever-so-slightly hoarse.

Nico turned, surprised, noticing the man for the first time. “Yeah? Who are you?”

The man held out a hand in greeting. Deep down, Thompson felt some primal part of his biology recoil at the sight of that hand. The fingers were too long. It looked like the HR employee was offering Nico a spider, not a human hand.

Nico, however, seemed quite unphased by the spider-handed man. Looking somewhat bemused, he took the man’s hand and shook it. The man shook his long hair from his face, his haunted eyes meeting Nico’s.

“Takashi Hamura,” the man said. “Human Resources.”

“Nico,” said Nico.

“Yes, I know,” said Takashi. “Let’s talk in your office, shall we? We have much to discuss.”

Nico nodded. The three of them walked into the Supervisor’s office and closed the door behind them. Thompson chuckled.

“So long, Nico,” he said...

***

Déjà vu, Piper thought.

Nico eased into the office chair behind his desk. Piper pulled herself up to sit on a filing cabinet, while Takashi sat in a chair directly across from Nico.

Seems like just yesterday we did this with Elizabeth, Nico thought, stifling a chuckle. It was a stupid joke, but he made a mental note to tell it to Piper after this meeting. He looked at Takashi, taking him in. Where Elizabeth had seemed intimidating, strong, dangerous, Takashi seemed highly unremarkable. The one exception was his eyes, which seemed to peer out at the world from somewhere much farther away than his face.

“So, tell me, Nico,” Takashi began, “how are you liking the Supervisor role?”

Nico shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“No complaints? Nothing you would wish to… share with HR?”

Nico shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Good, that’s good…” Takashi nodded slowly. “So tell me. How did you defeat Rudy Berkin?”

“What do you mean?”

Takashi pulled out his phone, speaking as his eyes scanned a file he had pulled up. “According to our records, you are an entry-level employee. You had only been with the company for a matter of weeks before taking on Rudy for the position of Supervisor, and according to… our sources, you were defeated by your predecessor on the same day that you took his job.”

Takashi’s eyes lingered on Nico’s button-down before he continued, “According to the information at my disposal, it seems that you… upgraded… your wardrobe between your two confrontations with Mr. Berkin.” Takashi templed his fingers, leaning forward in his chair. “Is that true?”

Nico and Piper exchanged a quick glance. His eyes asked her for advice, but all she could do was offer a tiny shrug. “Yeah, that’s true,” Nico said. “I got this shirt.”

“I see.”

There was a long silence. Takashi just stared at Nico, his eyes flicking back and forth from the button-down to Nico’s face. Piper began to feel a deep sense of dread.

“Are you aware, Mr. Pinstripe,” Takashi said slowly, “that only powerful fashion statements made by The Clothiers are allowed to be worn by Aleph employees?”

Nico suddenly felt nervous. “Yeah, I’m aware.”

Takashi nodded. His haunted eyes seemed to have grown much larger and much darker. He started pulling on a strand of his greasy hair, seemingly out of unconscious habit. “I see,” he whispered.

He abruptly stood, his legs knocking his chair over behind him. He slammed his hands onto Nico’s desk, leaning in close to Nico’s face. His mouth stretched into an unnervingly toothy grin.

“Mr. Pinstripe, where did you get that shirt?” he asked softly.

Nico’s heart was pounding. “The… The Clothiers,” he said.

“I don’t think so. I think you’re lying. You see, Nico, The Clothiers have never made a button-down like the one you’re wearing. I would know. I’ve kept track of every powerful fashion statement released by The Clothiers for the last nine years.”

Before Nico could respond, Takashi held up his phone and played the video Thompson had taken of Nico’s fight against Elizabeth. Nico frowned.

“This was sent to me by one of your new employees,” Takashi said. “I’ve watched it many times now. And do you know what I saw?”

One of his long fingers pressed hard into Nico’s chest. “This shirt, this shirt that you say you got from The Clothiers… it has only one stripe in the video. But now…”

His finger traced across Nico’s chest to his right arm, where he ran it up and down the brand-new second stripe. “Now, there are two.”

Nico shook his head. “Get your hand off me,” he said, his voice hard. “You just didn’t notice the other stripe when you watched the video, that’s all.”

Takashi laughed. It was a terrible, shrill laugh, a laugh that made Piper’s skin crawl.

“Keh Keh Keh Keh… You know what, maybe I did miss it. Anything’s possible, Nico. Anything’s possible. But you want to know what I think?”

“Not really,” Nico growled.

Takashi continued, ignoring the remark. “I think that this button-down isn’t made by The Clothiers at all. I think it’s the most powerful fashion statement in the world. No matter what you say, I know that shirt has gained a stripe since your fight with the Regional Manager yesterday. Which can only mean one thing. This button-down, this bootleg, can grow more powerful over time. Am I right? Am I close, Nico?”

Nico and Piper were both stunned, and their faces showed it. Takashi giggled. “Kehkehkehkeh! It seems I am close! In fact, I think I’m right! So let’s stop pretending, Nico. Why don’t you just admit it. Admit that you’re wearing an illegal fashion statement. And then…”

DA-DOOM!

“Give it to me.”