“After dropping the ball in our inaugural event, I think we have to,” Fume Hood said. She had a billiard-ball green sphere in one hand, that she tossed into the air as she said ‘ball’.

“We have opposition now,” Tempera said. “It makes it easier to be active. So long as people can believe we’re doing something about this disaster with the portals, they’re letting us be.”

“Maybe,” Fume Hood said. “Seems too easy.”

“It does tempt us down the potential road of manufactured enemies,” I said. “History’s told that story enough times. But I don’t think we have a shortage of real ones.”

“No shortage, for sure,” Tempera said. She drew in a deep breath, then looked down at Lookout. “Sorry, kid, to be talking about stuff this heavy.”

“Heavy and messy. I can handle both,” Lookout said. “So long as I’ve got my team. And my team has their own people. We share the burdens.”

Her focus turned to Sveta, Capricorn in red armor, and Weld, who weren’t as under siege as they had been earlier. No mob of questions or attention. Weld bent down to kiss Sveta, and held the kiss. Not a makeout session, but not a peck, either.

I looked away to give them their privacy, a smile finding its way to my face.

“I like that,” Tempera said.

“Hey, Breakthrough,” Fume Hood said. “Are these guys enemies?”

My head snapped around to look at her, then followed her line of sight.

Mom and Dad.

Ugh. “My parents.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Fume Hood said.

To my left, Lookout stood up straighter. If I hadn’t been watching for her body language in the absence of facial expressions, I might not have noticed.

“We didn’t mean to interrupt,” my mom said.

But you did, I thought.

“Tempera, Fume Hood, Lookout, these are my parents. Brandish and Flashbang.”

“You mentioned you grew up with capes,” Fume Hood said.

“Yep. Yep.”

“I actually wanted to talk to Natalie,” my mom said. “Check that she’s managing okay, with everything. But it would be strange, I think, if we didn’t even say hello to each other.”

“A little strange.”

“We won’t bother you,” my dad said. “It’s good to see you’re doing well. I like the costume.”

“Thank you.”

“I wanted to ask,” my mom cut in. “Have you heard from your cousin?”

I shook my head. “Not since we parted ways. Communication is usually sporadic to begin with, but the attackers have been knocking out the phones.”

“You’ll let us know if there’s any news? I worry.”

So they were an ‘us’ again, now?

“Yeah,” I said.

“And I hear you moved,” she said it in a way that left the question or follow-up there only in abstract, not in any tangible form.