Emma and Taylor froze, their eyes widening as they recognized the approaching heroes. Assault flashed a disarming smile, his posture relaxed as he came to a stop a few feet away.

  "Ladies," he said, his tone light. "Beautiful day for a stroll, isn't it?"

  Battery stood rigidly beside him, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Taylor Hebert?" she asked abruptly, ignoring her partner's attempt at small talk. "We need you to come with us for questioning."

  Assault shot his wife an exasperated glare. So much for easing into things.

  "What my colleague means," he said smoothly, "is that we'd like to have a chat with you about some recent events at Winslow High. Nothing to worry about, just routine follow-up."

  Emma clutched Taylor's arm, both girls looking increasingly nervous. Taylor swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. "Am I... am I in trouble?"

  Battery opened her mouth, likely to say something unhelpful, but Assault cut her off. "Not at all," he assured them. "We just want to clear up a few things. It would really help us out if you could come down to the PRT building voluntarily."

  He emphasized the last word, hoping to avoid any unnecessary drama. The last thing they needed was a scene in the middle of the Boardwalk.

  Taylor and Emma exchanged a long look, seeming to have an entire conversation without words. The tension in the air was palpable as the seconds ticked by.

  Then, quite suddenly, both girls' expressions transformed. The fear vanished, replaced by... excitement?

  "Oh my god," Emma squealed, bouncing on her toes. "We get to go to the Rig? For real?"

  Taylor's face lit up with a brilliant smile. "I can't believe it! This is amazing!"

  Assault blinked, caught completely off guard by the sudden shift. He glanced at Battery, who looked equally baffled.

  "Uh, yeah," he said slowly. "We'll need to ask you some questions at headquarters."

  "Can I come too?" Emma asked eagerly. "I'm Taylor's best friend, I can vouch for her!"

  Battery's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "This isn't a social call," she said firmly. "We have serious matters to discuss."

  But her stern tone did nothing to dampen the girls' enthusiasm. If anything, they seemed even more thrilled by the gravity of the situation.

  "Of course, of course," Taylor nodded, her eyes shining. "We understand completely. This is official hero business."

  She turned to Emma, practically vibrating with excitement. "Can you believe it, Ems? We're going to see inside PRT headquarters!"

  Emma clapped her hands together. "I bet we'll get to meet Armsmaster! Oh, and Miss Militia! Do you think they'll let us take pictures?"

  Assault and Battery exchanged bewildered looks. This was... not how they had expected this confrontation to go.

  "Hold on," Battery said, raising a hand. "You understand we're bringing you in for questioning about potentially illegal activities, right? This isn't a tour."

  Taylor nodded solemnly, though she couldn't quite keep the smile off her face. "Oh, absolutely. We take this very seriously. Don't we, Emma?"

  Emma straightened up, adopting an exaggerated serious expression. "Super seriously," she agreed. "We're model citizens, ready to assist the heroes in any way we can."

  Assault couldn't help but chuckle, despite the bizarre turn of events. "Well, I'm glad you're both so... cooperative. Shall we get going then?"

  The girls nodded eagerly, falling into step beside the heroes as they began walking towards the waiting PRT van.

  "This is going to be so cool," Taylor whispered to Emma, not quite quietly enough to escape the heroes' enhanced hearing. "Way better than that time we got to visit the police station for that school trip."

  Emma giggled. "Remember how you got all tongue-tied when Officer Johnson showed us the holding cells?"

  "Girls," Battery interrupted, her patience clearly wearing thin. "This is a serious matter. I suggest you start thinking about how you're going to explain what's been happening at Winslow."

  But even her stern warning couldn't dampen Taylor and Emma's spirits. They climbed into the van, chattering excitedly about what they might see at PRT headquarters.

  As Assault closed the door behind them, he caught Battery's eye. "Well," he said quietly. "That was... unexpected."

  Battery frowned, her gaze fixed on the two teenagers. "Something's not right here," she muttered. "No one's this excited about being brought in for questioning. Keep your guard up."

  Assault nodded, his own suspicions beginning to rise. Whatever was going on with Taylor Hebert, it was clear there was more to the story than met the eye.

  The previous Saturday morning had dawned bright and early, sunlight streaming through the curtains of Emma's bedroom. Taylor sat cross-legged on the bed, a leather-bound book cradled in her lap. Emma yawned, stretching as she sat up and blinked sleepily at her friend.

  "What's that?" Emma asked, nodding towards the book.

  Taylor's fingers traced the embossed cover. "It's... a contingency plan," she said softly.

  Emma frowned, suddenly more alert. "What do you mean?"

  Taylor sighed, running a hand through her curly hair. "One of the teachers tipped me off. The Protectorate has been sniffing around the school, asking questions."

  Emma's eyes widened. "About you?"

  Taylor nodded grimly. "About the changes at Winslow. About the study guides. They're getting close, Em."

  "Shit," Emma breathed. "What are we going to do?"

  Taylor held up the book. "This is our insurance policy. It's... well, it's a special version of my tech."

  Emma leaned forward, intrigued despite her worry. "What does it do?"

  "It'll make us forget," Taylor explained. "Forget that I'm the tinker behind all this."

  Emma recoiled slightly. "Wait, what? You want us to forget everything?"

  Taylor shook her head quickly. "Not everything. Just... the specifics. We'll still remember being friends, still remember the improvements at Winslow. But we won't remember that I'm the one behind it all."

  Emma chewed her lip, considering. "And that'll keep you safe?"

  "It should," Taylor nodded. "If they bring us in for questioning, we won't be lying when we say we don't know who's responsible. We'll just be two normal students, excited about the positive changes at our school."

  Emma reached out, gently taking the book from Taylor's hands. She ran her fingers over the cover, feeling the subtle patterns embossed into the leather. "How does it work?"

  Taylor leaned back, her expression turning more clinical as she slipped into what Emma thought of as her 'tinker mode.' "It's a modified version of the study guides. Instead of imparting knowledge or altering behavior, it selectively blocks certain memories. Creates a... a sort of mental blind spot."

  Emma flipped through the pages, seeing rows of text that seemed to shimmer and shift as she looked at them. "And you're sure it's safe?"

  Taylor nodded firmly. "I've tested it extensively. The effects are completely reversible. Once we're in the clear, It will automatically undo itself."

  Emma closed the book, looking up at her friend with a mix of concern and admiration. "You've really thought of everything, haven't you?"

  Taylor gave a small, tired smile. "I have to. There's too much at stake."

  They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their situation settling over them. Finally, Emma spoke up. "So, when do we do this?"

  "Now," Taylor said, her voice quiet but firm. "If they're already asking questions, we can't risk waiting. We need to be prepared in case they come for us."

  Emma nodded, taking a deep breath. "Okay. What do we need to do?"

  Taylor took the book back, opening it to a specific page. "We'll read this together. The effects should take hold pretty quickly. By the time we're done, we won't remember having this conversation."

  Emma scooted closer, peering at the page. "And you're sure you can undo it later?"

  Taylor met her friend's gaze, her expression resolute. "I promise, Em. No matter what happens, I'll find a way to fix this. To fix everything."

  Emma managed a small smile. "I trust you, Tay. Always have, always will."

  Taylor returned the smile, grateful for her friend's unwavering support. "Ready?"

  Emma nodded, and together they began to read. The words on the page seemed to dance and swirl, patterns emerging and fading in rapid succession. Emma felt a strange buzzing in her head, like static on an old television.

  As they read, memories began to blur and fade. The image of Taylor hunched over a workbench, tinkering with strange devices, grew hazy and indistinct. Conversations about powers and plans slipped away like sand through an hourglass.

  By the time they reached the end of the passage, both girls felt slightly disoriented. They blinked at each other, then at the book in Taylor's hands.

  "What... what were we just doing?" Emma asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

  Taylor shook her head, trying to clear the fog from her mind. "I'm not sure. Something about... school?"

  Emma glanced at the clock and gasped. "Oh! We were supposed to be studying for that history test, weren't we?"

  Taylor nodded slowly, the fake memory slotting neatly into place. "Right, of course. We should probably get started on that."

  Emma blinked rapidly as clarity rushed back into her mind. The fog lifted, memories crystallizing with startling speed. She jumped up from the bed, practically bouncing with excitement.

  "That was amazing!" She spun to face Taylor. "It actually worked. We completely forgot, and then - bam! Everything came right back."

  Taylor nodded, but her expression remained serious. "It worked better than I expected, honestly. The recall was faster than in my tests."

  "So this is our safety net?" Emma flopped back onto the bed. "If they question us, we just... won't know anything?"

  "It's not foolproof," Taylor cautioned, setting the book aside. "The Protectorate has dealt with memory manipulation before. They might suspect something's up, especially if we seem too genuinely clueless."

  "But it'll buy us time?"

  "That's the hope." Taylor ran a hand through her hair. "Give us breathing room to figure out our next move. They can't prove anything if we honestly don't know anything when they question us."

  Emma sat up, cross-legged on the bed. "And the memories just come back on their own after?"

  "Once we're clear of any immediate scrutiny, yes. The block is designed to be temporary." Taylor managed a small smile. "Though I have to admit, it was weird experiencing it firsthand."

  "Weird but brilliant," Emma grinned. "You never cease to amaze me, you know that?"

  Emma's excitement was palpable as she bounced on her toes, eyes shining with enthusiasm. "We're actually going to the Rig? That's so cool!" She paused, her expression sobering slightly. "But if it's for questioning, I should probably call my dad. He's a lawyer, you know."

  Battery's brow furrowed, clearly not thrilled with the idea. "That's not really necessary-"

  "Actually," Assault cut in smoothly, "that's a great idea. We always encourage minors to have a guardian present during questioning." He shot his partner a pointed look.

  Battery sighed, relenting. "Fine. You can call your father on the way."

  Taylor nodded, looking relieved. "Is it okay if I call my dad too?"

  "Of course," Assault agreed readily. "We'll have a PRT van pick us up shortly. You can both make your calls then."

  As they waited for their ride, Emma couldn't contain her curiosity. "So, what's it like being a hero? Do you guys get to fight villains all the time?"

  Assault chuckled, warming to the girl's enthusiasm. "It's not all excitement and battles. There's a lot of paperwork and training involved too."

  "But when you do fight, it must be amazing," Emma pressed. "I bet you've taken down tons of bad guys."

  Battery's stern expression softened slightly. "It can be rewarding, yes. But it's also dangerous work."

  A few minutes later, a nondescript van pulled up. The heroes ushered the girls inside, where they found seats and seatbelts waiting.

  "Go ahead and make your calls," Battery instructed as they settled in.

  Emma pulled out her phone, dialing her father's number. "Dad? Hi, it's me. Um, something kind of weird is happening..." She launched into a rapid explanation of the situation.

  Taylor made her own call, her voice quieter as she spoke to her father. "Hey, Dad. I'm okay, but I need you to meet me at the PRT building..."

  Meanwhile, in a private room on the first floor of the modeling studio, Fenja and Menja stood frozen in confusion. They were halfway through changing into their costumes, having seen that potential situation involving Taylor and Emma on their doorstep.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  "What the hell?" Fenja muttered, peering out the window at the scene unfolding outside. "Why aren't they resisting?"

  Menja shook her head, equally baffled. "And why do they look so... excited? This doesn't make any sense."

  The twins exchanged worried glances. They had been tasked with keeping an eye on the girls, ready to intervene if the Protectorate made a move. But this... this wasn't at all what they had expected.

  "Should we follow them?" Fenja asked, her hand hovering over her phone, ready to call for backup.

  Menja bit her lip, considering. "No... not yet. We need to report this to Kaiser first. Something's not right here."

  Back in the van, Emma was practically bouncing in her seat as they drove towards the Rig. "I can't believe we're actually going to see inside the PHQ! Do you think we'll get to meet Armsmaster? Or Miss Militia?"

  Taylor smiled at her friend's enthusiasm, though there was a hint of nervousness in her eyes. "I'm sure it'll be interesting, Em. But remember, we're going there to answer questions."

  "Right, right," Emma nodded, sobering slightly. "But still, it's pretty cool, isn't it?"

  Assault couldn't help but chuckle at the girls' excitement. It was a far cry from the fear or hostility they usually encountered when bringing in suspects for questioning. "You two seem awfully eager for a couple of kids being brought in for interrogation."

  Emma's eyes widened. "Interrogation? That sounds so serious! We're not in trouble, are we?"

  Battery's expression remained stern, but there was a hint of confusion in her voice. "That depends on what you have to tell us. We have some questions about certain... activities at Winslow High School."

  As the van made its way towards the PRT headquarters, Battery leaned forward, her expression serious. "So, tell me what you know about the Winslow tinker."

  Emma's eyes lit up. "Oh! You mean the one everyone's been talking about? I bet it's Charlotte from the robotics club. She's always tinkering with stuff."

  Taylor shook her head. "No way, it's definitely Mr. Gladly. He's been acting weird lately, and I swear I saw him with some kind of high-tech pen the other day."

  Battery and Assault exchanged glances, clearly not expecting this response.

  "You both seem to have different ideas," Assault noted. "What makes you so sure?"

  Emma shrugged. "Just a hunch, I guess. But Charlotte's always been super smart, and lately she's been even more secretive than usual."

  "And Mr. Gladly?" Battery prompted, looking at Taylor.

  "Well, he's been staying late at school a lot," Taylor explained. "Plus, he's been really interested in everyone's grades lately. More than usual, I mean."

  Battery nodded, making a mental note. "I see. Now, can you tell us about your encounter with Oni Lee?"

  Both girls visibly tensed at the mention of the ABB cape.

  "It was terrifying," Emma said, her voice quieter now. "We were just waiting for my sister to pick us up after school, and suddenly he was just... there."

  Taylor nodded emphatically. "I thought we were done for. But then Mr. Gladly showed up in this ridiculous costume. He called himself 'The Headmaster' or something."

  "He was so brave," Emma added. "He tried to fight Oni Lee to protect us."

  "And what happened next?" Assault asked, his tone gentle.

  "It's kind of a blur," Taylor admitted. "There was a lot of shouting and fighting. But then this woman in a cage-like mask showed up."

  Emma's eyes widened. "Oh yeah! Cricket, right? She started fighting Oni Lee too."

  "There was another woman as well," Taylor continued. "I didn't recognize her costume, but she took out the ABB guys holding us really quickly."

  Emma playfully elbowed Taylor. "You know that means Mr. Glady can't be the tinker right.

  Taylor humphed. "He could have been doing a double blind. Making himself seem too ridiculous to be the tinker when the woman was a patsy."

  Battery frowned. "And you didn't stay to talk to the police afterward?"

  Both girls looked sheepish.

  "We were scared," Emma explained. "With all the capes fighting, we just wanted to get out of there."

  Taylor nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we didn't want to get caught in the middle of it all. So we ran as soon as we had the chance."

  "I see," Battery said, her tone neutral. "And you didn't think to report what happened later?"

  Emma bit her lip. "I guess we should have. But by the time we calmed down, it felt like it was too late. We figured the heroes had already handled everything."

  "We're sorry," Taylor added, looking genuinely contrite. "We should have said something sooner."

  Assault leaned back, his expression thoughtful. "Well, that's why we're talking now. It's important that we get all the information we can about what's been happening at Winslow."

  The van pulled up to the PRT building, and Battery opened the door. "Alright, we're here. Your parents should be waiting inside. We'll continue this conversation once we're all settled."

  As they stepped out of the vehicle, Emma couldn't contain her excitement despite the serious situation. "Wow, it looks even cooler up close!"

  Taylor nodded, a mix of nervousness and anticipation on her face. "Yeah, it does. I just hope we can help clear things up."

  The group made their way into the building, Emma and Taylor looking around in awe at the bustling lobby filled with PRT agents and civilians alike. Battery led them towards a secure area, where they could see Danny Hebert and Alan Barnes waiting anxiously.

  "Dad!" Taylor called out, relief evident in her voice.

  "Mr. Barnes!" Emma waved, quickening her pace.

  The two men rushed forward to embrace their daughters, concern etched on their faces.

  "Are you alright?" Danny asked, checking Taylor over for any signs of distress.

  "We're fine, Dad," Taylor assured him. "Just helping the heroes with some questions about what happened at school."

  Alan Barnes, ever the lawyer, turned to Battery and Assault. "I hope you haven't been questioning my daughter without proper representation present."

  Assault held up his hands placatingly. "Not at all, sir. We were just having a friendly chat on the way over. The official questioning hasn't started yet."

  Battery nodded in agreement. "We'll be moving to a more appropriate room for that. If you'll all follow me, please."

  As the group made their way deeper into the PRT building, Emma couldn't help but whisper excitedly to Taylor. "Can you believe we're actually here? This is so cool!"

  Taylor managed a small smile, though her eyes darted nervously around the hallways. "Yeah, it's pretty amazing. I just hope we can help them figure out what's going on at Winslow."

  The interrogation room was stark and cold, a far cry from the excitement Taylor and Emma had felt upon entering the PRT building. They sat side by side at a metal table, their fathers flanking them protectively. Across from them, two stern-faced PRT agents had replaced the more approachable Assault and Battery.

  "Let's cut to the chase," the male agent said, his voice clipped. "We know you two are the ones who made those study guides at Winslow. Care to explain?"

  Emma blinked, caught off guard. "What? No, that's not right. We didn't create them."

  Taylor nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we were given them to hand out. We thought it was from a teacher or something."

  The female agent leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "A teacher? Can you describe this person?"

  Emma and Taylor exchanged glances, their brows furrowed in concentration.

  "It was a woman," Taylor said slowly. "Tall, blonde... and, um, kind of chesty?"

  Emma nodded. "Yeah, that sounds right. But it's weird, I don't remember seeing her around school after that."

  The male agent slammed his hand on the table, causing both girls to jump. "Don't play games with us. We have evidence that you two were the source of these study guides."

  Alan Barnes bristled. "Watch your tone. These are minors you're questioning, and my daughter has already told you what she knows."

  Danny Hebert nodded in agreement. "If you have actual evidence, present it. Otherwise, this feels like intimidation."

  The female agent pulled out a file, spreading photos across the table. "Security footage shows you two consistently being the first to arrive with new batches of study guides. Teachers report you specifically pushing for their use in classes."

  Taylor leaned forward, examining the photos with genuine curiosity. "That's us alright, but we were just excited about how well they worked. We wanted to help our classmates."

  Emma nodded emphatically. "Exactly! We thought we were doing a good thing. If we'd known there was something wrong with them, we never would have handed them out."

  The male agent's jaw clenched. "And what about the sudden improvement in your grades? The drastic changes in student behavior across the school?"

  Taylor shrugged. "Isn't that the point of study guides? To help people improve?"

  Emma chimed in, "And maybe people are just happier because they're doing better in school? I know I felt a lot more confident once my grades went up."

  The interrogators pressed on, bringing up more pieces of evidence – the recycling of old electronics, the changes in school announcements, the improved cafeteria food. But for each point, Taylor and Emma had a plausible, if somewhat naive, explanation.

  As the questioning continued, both girls appeared increasingly bewildered and upset. Taylor's eyes welled with tears at one point.

  "We were just trying to help," she said, her voice cracking. "We didn't know there was anything wrong with what we were doing."

  Emma reached out to squeeze her friend's hand. "Yeah, we're really sorry if we caused any trouble. We thought we were making things better."

  The agents exchanged frustrated glances, clearly not getting the answers they'd hoped for. After a few more fruitless attempts, they finally called an end to the interrogation.

  As Taylor and Emma exited the interrogation room, flanked by their fathers, the air was thick with tension. Danny Hebert and Alan Barnes wore matching scowls, their jaws clenched in barely contained fury.

  "The nerve of those agents," Alan spat once they were out of earshot. "Interrogating minors like common criminals? This won't stand."

  Danny nodded, his eyes blazing. "Agreed. I'm calling the dockworkers' union first thing tomorrow. We'll see how smug those PRT bastards are when their funding gets called into question."

  In the backseat, Taylor and Emma exchanged a silent look, their lips quirking into barely perceptible smirks. With a subtle fist bump, a wealth of understanding passed between them. Their memories had returned, the false personas implanted by Taylor's tech dissipating like morning fog.

  They were safe, for now.

  As Alan's car pulled away from the PRT building, the two girls leaned back in their seats, the very picture of innocence. Only the faint gleam in their eyes hinted at the true depth of their deception.

  The game was afoot, and they were just getting started.

  The debriefing room was tense as Assault, Battery, and Armsmaster gathered around the video conference screen displaying Director Piggot's stern visage. Assault shot a sidelong glance at Battery, his annoyance palpable.

  "What the hell happened out there?" Piggot demanded, her voice sharp.

  Battery cleared her throat. "Well, we approached the subjects as planned, but—"

  "But Battery here decided to play bad cop without discussing it first," Assault interjected, unable to contain his frustration. "Nearly scared the girls off before we even got started."

  Battery bristled. "I was being direct. We didn't have time for your joking around."

  "Enough," Piggot snapped. "I want to know why two teenage girls managed to completely stonewall our interrogation."

  Armsmaster stepped forward, his posture stiff. "Director, if I may. I've been working on a prototype lie detector with Dragon's assistance." He gestured to a small device on the table. "It's currently at 95% accuracy. I used it to monitor the girls through our camera system during questioning."

  Piggot's eyes narrowed. "And?"

  "Both subjects passed with flying colors," Armsmaster reported. "Every response registered as truthful."

  The director's face contorted in disbelief. "You're telling me your 'rock-solid evidence' was based on experimental Tinkertech?"

  Armsmaster opened his mouth to respond, but Piggot cut him off.

  "This is exactly why we can't rely solely on Tinkertech for these kinds of operations," she fumed. "What about good old-fashioned detective work?"

  Assault raised a hand. "To be fair, we did try to press them on inconsistencies. But they always had a plausible explanation."

  Piggot massaged her temples. "So we're back to square one. Fine. I want you to follow up on this Gladly character and the mysterious blonde woman they mentioned. Someone has to know something."

  Battery nodded. "We'll start interviewing other Winslow staff first thing tomorrow."

  "See that you do," Piggot growled. "And next time, try not to let a couple of high school girls run circles around you."

  Battery shifted uncomfortably, her posture stiff. "Director, should we collect the tinkertech study guides from Winslow for analysis?"

  Piggot's frown deepened, lines etching across her forehead. She let out a long, weary sigh. "That won't be necessary, Battery."

  "Ma'am?" Armsmaster interjected, his tone questioning.

  "It seems a 'wrongly filed' application for 'experimental teaching materials' has suddenly materialized," Piggot explained, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Conveniently backdated to the beginning of the school year."

  Assault let out a low whistle. "Well, that's certainly convenient timing."

  "Indeed," Piggot growled. "The School Superintendent is clearly covering his ass. And if I had to guess, he's burning through a lot of favors to make it happen."

  Battery's brow furrowed. "So we're just going to let this slide? After everything we've uncovered?"

  Piggot's eyes flashed with irritation. "Of course not. We'll keep a close eye on Winslow. But our hands are tied for now." She paused, her gaze sweeping across the assembled heroes. "Unless one of you wants to explain to the media why we're confiscating 'approved' educational materials that have demonstrably improved student performance?"

  The room fell silent, no one willing to take on that particular PR nightmare.

  "That's what I thought," Piggot said curtly. "Keep me updated on any new developments. I want to know the moment anything changes at that school."

  With that, the director cut the call, leaving the heroes to stew in their frustration.

  Assault slumped against the wall, running a hand through his hair. "Well, that went about as poorly as it could have. We're back to square one with zilch to show for it."

  To his surprise, Armsmaster's posture straightened, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "On the contrary. You and Battery performed admirably."

  Battery's eyebrows shot up. "Colin, what are you talking about? We got nothing out of those girls."

  "Precisely," Armsmaster replied, his tone maddeningly calm. "Your interrogation provided exactly what I needed."

  Assault pushed off the wall, confusion etched across his face. "Mind cluing us in on whatever 4D chess you're playing here? Because from where I'm standing, we just wasted a whole lot of time and resources."

  Armsmaster's lips thinned into a tight line. "I have what I need to proceed. The details are... sensitive."

  Battery's eyes narrowed. "Colin, why are you keeping Piggot out of the loop on this? That's not like you."

  The Tinker hesitated for a moment before responding. "Master-Stranger Protocol 17-B, subsection 3. It allows for compartmentalization of information in cases where widespread infiltration is suspected."

  Assault let out a low whistle. "That's some pretty obscure protocol you're pulling out. You really think we're dealing with that level of compromise?"

  Armsmaster's jaw clenched. "I have my reasons."

  Battery stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Colin, what aren't you telling us? This isn't just about those study guides, is it?"

  The Tinker remained silent for a long moment, his visor hiding whatever internal struggle was playing out behind his eyes. Finally, he spoke, his words carefully measured. "I have... evidence. Concrete evidence. But acting on it prematurely could jeopardize everything."

  Assault's eyes widened. "Wait, you're saying you actually have something solid on this Winslow Tinker? How?"

  Armsmaster shook his head. "The less you know right now, the better. Plausible deniability."

  Battery frowned. "Colin, this isn't like you. Going behind Piggot's back, keeping secrets from the team... Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

  The Tinker's posture softened slightly. "I understand your concerns. But I need you to trust me on this. What I'm doing... it's for the good of the entire city."

  Assault studied Armsmaster's face, searching for any hint of deception. Finally, he sighed. "I don't know what game you're playing here, Armsy. But you've earned enough goodwill over the years for me to give you the benefit of the doubt. For now."

  Battery nodded reluctantly. "Alright, we'll follow your lead on this. But the moment things start going sideways, you bring us in. Deal?"

  Armsmaster gave a curt nod. "Agreed. Thank you both for your trust. I promise, when the time is right, everything will become clear."

  As the three heroes left the debriefing room, each lost in their own thoughts, the weight of unspoken secrets hung heavy in the air. Whatever Armsmaster's plan was, it was clear that the stakes were far higher than any of them had initially realized.

  Theo stood outside the Medhall gym, his heart pounding. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead. This wasn't going to be easy, but he knew it was necessary. With a final nod of determination, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

  The gym was state-of-the-art, filled with gleaming equipment and the faint scent of sweat and disinfectant. But Theo's eyes were immediately drawn to the imposing figure waiting for him near the free weights.

  Brad Meadows, better known as Hookwolf, stood with his arms crossed, a predatory grin spreading across his face as he spotted Theo. "Well, well," he rumbled. "Look who decided to show up on time."

  Theo swallowed hard but forced himself to meet Brad's gaze. "I said I'd be here," he replied, proud that his voice didn't waver.

  Brad's grin widened. "That you did, kid. Gotta admit, I was surprised when you came to me about training. Didn't think you had it in you."

  Theo felt a flicker of annoyance at the backhanded compliment, but he pushed it down. This was exactly why he needed to do this. "Yeah, well," he said, squaring his shoulders. "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately."

  Brad raised an eyebrow, curiosity glinting in his eyes. "Oh? Do tell."

  Theo took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. "Look, I'm not going to pretend I agree with everything... with the way things are being done. But I've realized something important."

  "And what's that?" Brad asked, his tone neutral but attentive.

  "Sitting on the sidelines doesn't do any good," Theo said, his voice growing stronger as he spoke. "If I want to change things, I need to be in a position to actually make those changes. And that means..." He paused, meeting Brad's gaze directly. "That means earning respect."

  For a long moment, Brad said nothing, simply studying Theo with an unreadable expression. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face – not the mocking smirk from earlier, but something that looked almost like genuine approval.

  "Well, I'll be damned," Brad chuckled. "That's actually a pretty good attitude, kid. Didn't expect to hear that kind of thinking from you."

  Theo felt a surge of pride at the compliment, even as a part of him recoiled at seeking approval from someone like Hookwolf. But he pushed that feeling aside. This was necessary.

  "So," Theo said, squaring his shoulders. "Are we going to get started or what?"

  Brad's grin turned feral. "Oh, we're getting started alright. But first..." He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a low growl. "You sure you want to do this? Because I'm not going to hold back. This isn't going to be some cushy workout for rich boys."

  Theo met his gaze unflinchingly. "Good," he said firmly. "I don't want you to hold back. I'm here to get stronger, not to play games."

  Brad threw back his head and laughed, a booming sound that echoed through the gym. "Alright then, Theo! You asked for it." He clapped a meaty hand on Theo's shoulder, nearly staggering the younger man. "Don't worry, I'll whip you into shape soon enough. By the time I'm done with you, you won't even recognize yourself."

  Theo nodded, a mix of determination and trepidation churning in his gut. "That's what I'm counting on," he said quietly.

  Brad's grin widened. "Well then, let's get to it. We'll start with a little warmup – give me twenty burpees, then we'll see what you're really made of."

  As Theo moved to comply, his mind raced. This was just the beginning, he knew. The path ahead would be difficult, painful, and fraught with moral compromises. But as he dropped to the floor for his first burpee, he reminded himself why he was doing this.

  He just hoped it would be worth it in the end.

  The grand meeting room of Medhall's top floor buzzed with anticipation. Kaiser, resplendent in his gleaming armor, stood at the head of the long mahogany table. Around him, the assembled capes of the Empire 88 waited with varying degrees of curiosity and impatience.

  "My friends," Kaiser began, his voice carrying easily through the room, "I've called you all here today to greet a new associate. Someone who, I believe, will prove to be a valuable ally in our ongoing efforts to restore order to our fair city."

  Murmurs rippled through the gathering. Hookwolf leaned back in his chair, a predatory grin on his face. The twins, Fenja and Menja, exchanged glances, while Victor raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

  "Now," Kaiser continued, a hint of theatricality in his tone, "allow me to introduce our guest."

  He gestured towards the ornate double doors at the far end of the room. As if on cue, they swung open silently, revealing a figure that immediately drew every eye in the room.

  She entered with poise and grace, her high heels clicking softly on the polished floor. The costume was a masterpiece of deception and style, transforming its wearer into something both familiar and alien.

  The base of the outfit was a modified house dress, its fabric a soft pastel blue that evoked images of 1950s domesticity. But this was no simple frock. The dress was tailored to perfection, hugging curves that were subtly enhanced by clever padding. An apron, pristine white and edged with delicate lace, was tied neatly around her waist. But where a traditional apron might have pockets for carrying household items, this one bristled with pouches of various sizes, hinting at hidden gadgets and tools.

  Her legs were encased in sheer stockings, the seams ruler-straight and disappearing beneath the hem of her dress. White gloves, soft and supple, covered her hands and reached to her wrists, leaving no skin exposed.

  Around her neck gleamed a string of pearls, each orb perfectly matched and glowing with a soft luster. They drew the eye upward to her face, which was a work of art in itself. Skillful makeup had aged her features, giving her the appearance of a woman in her late twenties or early thirties. Her lips were painted a classic red, her cheeks touched with just the right amount of color to suggest health and vitality.

  A blonde wig crowned her head, the hair styled into an immaculate updo that wouldn't have looked out of place at a society gala. And covering her eyes, the final touch of mystery – a domino mask, its edges blending seamlessly with her skin thanks to expert application.

  The overall effect was striking. She looked like the perfect housewife stepped straight out of a vintage advertisement, but with an unmistakable edge of danger and intrigue. It would have been nearly impossible for anyone to connect this vision with Taylor Hebert, the lanky teenager from Winslow High.

  As she reached the center of the room, she paused, taking in the assembled capes with a serene smile. Then, with fluid grace, she sank into a flawless curtsy, her skirts billowing around her like a blooming flower.

  "Hello," she said, her voice warm and rich, carrying easily to every corner of the room. "I'm Miss Stepford. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."