Teddy had the impression that Hindsight was glaring at her, but she was right, so he could glare all he wanted. The only person allowed to feel more important than others was the Boss.

“Kid, I think you’re delusional. You can’t expect people to do anything for free.”

Teddy patted her dress where her red book was tucked away. “I read this thing, by some guy called Karl Mark, and his friend Fred Angel, and they say that if you want to be happy with the work you’re doing, you need to see yourself in it. I think he meant like, uh . . . Boss, what’s the word for a thing that’s another thing, but not literally that thing?”

The Boss blinked a few times. “A metaphor?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Teddy said. “Karl was talking about a metaphor. Like, can you see yourself being a lame Hero who only does stuff for money, or are you an okay Hero who does stuff to help people and because it’s what you like doing?”

Hindsight went quiet, which meant that Teddy had scored a bunch of points. “I didn’t come here prepared to debate a damned preteen on economic theory,” he muttered.

“I suppose that’s one of the reasons Villains are so bad, right?” Cheatah asked. She seemed much more interested in this conversation than anything else so far.

“Nah,” Teddy said. “See, Villains, the good Villains”—she squeezed the Boss’s hand—“they do Villain stuff because that’s who they are, it’s who they wanna be. They don’t do it for money. The money they take is to do bigger things. And they don’t just hurt people because they can, they hurt people to be able to do even more stuff later. Villains are the ultimate communist ideal.”

The Heroes were all silent, no doubt awed by Teddy’s superior reasoning.

“Um,” the Boss said. “T— Ursa Minor can be a bit opinionated, but she means well.”

Yeah, that was right!

“Uh-huh,” Hindsight said. He shook his head and looked past them all. They were nearing another intersection, Glamazon leading the way with a few sparkling balls hovering by her side and around her openly worn nameplate. “Let’s pause here.”

“Need a break?” Glamazon asked. “We’ve been walking for a while.”

Hindsight moved over. The intersection was cut into a hill, so the corner they were on didn’t have any buildings, but instead a steep incline with an old lamppost atop it. The dirt was all smushed in a diagonal path that people had probably been using as a shortcut since forever.

A bench sat next to the lamp, one that Hindsight used. He placed his hands between his knees and lowered his head. “Let me use my power,” he said. “It’ll make scouting a little easier.”

“All right,” Glamazon said.