The sun hung overhead, but the alley lay shrouded in shadow. Old trash cans covered in strange goop littered the narrow path. The man rocked in place before regaining his bearings. He glanced around warily.

“Chill. We’re a couple alleys from Genewall. I won’t pull anything sus. Unless you want me to.”

I sidled closer, but he brushed me off and strode deeper into the alley. I caught up with him and matched his pace.

“Do you want to get coffee later or something?”

“No.”

“Right, I also hate coffee. Too bitter. How about McBurger King? We could make it a romantic evening. I know the workers there and they’ll serve top shelf if I ask.”

We reached a split path, both leading to a main road. He chose the right.

“There are 17 McBurger Kings in Three Faces. Which one do you know the workers at?”

“All of them, why?”

“So I can fucking avoid it.”

Impossible. McBurger King had the best food in the city.

“Can I at least get your name?”

He released a deep breath.

“You have helped and I thank you for that, but we must now part ways. I hope we never meet again.”

He slipped into shadow, but my vision penetrated all darkness. Fail. Well, I could take a hint. My friends often lamented my amazing ability to read people. They’d say things like ‘are you stupid’, ‘everyone already knew’, or my personal favorite ‘who are you and why are you in my house’. My stellar intuition terrified me, and this time it sensed mystery man was uninterested.

I teleported back home and moped on my bed, or more accurately, my couch. Cheeto dust littered the cushions and adjacent coffee table, which was weird because I never ate Cheetos. They were gross animal food.

And, in fact, they were animal food. Crazy had gotten into a bag of Joe’s Cheetos, leaving cheesy paw prints everywhere. Good dog. Maybe Joe would stop buying them.

I stared at the sterile white ceiling and walls, tracing sunbeams reflected from windows. The faint gurgle of soup boiling on the stove across the room sung me into a trance. Thick spices with a trace of sulfur assaulted my nose. Mystery man smelled like sulfur, too.

What could we have been? I couldn’t imagine it because I didn’t know anything about him except he was good with a gun. But my heart raced thinking about him. Maybe he could’ve been the one to make me care again.

A draft gusted into the room as the front door opened. Loose papers flew off the kitchen table and landed on the floor.

“Woah, when’d you get in?”

A woman wearing black high heels and a grey suit power-walked into the room, her blue braids darting in all directions. Her black leather work bag was slung over her right shoulder. A white eyepatch veiled her left eye from view while the uncovered one drilled through me. It grew larger as I stared until I couldn’t see anything but her pitch black iris, the physical manifestation of abyss.

“Hey, chill Surah. Your Governor's ability is too harsh on the mind. I don’t have much of that left.”

Her visage returned to normal and she placed a hand on her hip.

“Sorry, force of habit.”

“That’s what they all say.”

“Hey, I’m not everyone.”

Surah flipped her hair. It shimmered as it moved.

“How do I look?”

“Intimidating.”

“Don’t you mean beautiful?”

She tilted her hand back and held the pose. I leaned on my side.

“You wish.”

Surah stepped forward and the ground shrunk between us. Her single step carried her right beside me, all so she could bonk my head.

“Oof.”

“Watch your mouth, dumbie. I don’t want to be cracking skulls on my lunch break.”

I teleported to my broken camera on the coffee table to escape her. It was a spotless island in a Cheeto dust sea. Unfortunately, the laptop beside it hadn’t been spared from Crazy’s rampage. Still, my camera wasn’t in the best shape either. It sparked at the slightest touch. Hopefully, I could recover the footage, or I’d need to redo the entire prank.

“What happened there? Did terrorizing the town finally catch up?”

“Of course not. This is how it always looked.”

I plugged the camera into my laptop and miraculously, the files popped up. This trip wasn’t wasted after all. I began the download process so I could edit the footage.

“See, not broken at all.”

“The gaping hole through it says otherwise. If you set my house on fire with those sparks, I’ll beat you up.”

“Yeah yeah. Try it.”

My video had saved, so I booted up my editing program and skimmed through the video to see the quality. When mystery man had shot my camera, the screen turned black but continued recording, so I cut the last ten minutes.

Surah came behind me and rested on my shoulder. She leaned on her elbow to make it uncomfortable for me.

“This video is terrible.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than harass me in my own home?”

Her face scrunched. Stay mad.

“This is my house. You’re the freeloader here.”

“Finders keepers.”

“That’s not how house ownership works.”

“Losers weepers.”

I fake cried to imitate her. She flicked me.

“When are you going to find a real job and stop mooching off me?”

“Hey, I have a job.”

“Youtube isn’t a job.”

Ouch. Way to kill my dreams. My channel would spread happiness around the world.

“People make good money with videos.”

“Yeah, people with more than 20 subscribers.”

“I have 30 subscribers now. It’s only up from here.”

I huddled with my computer and stroked the screen. Yes, my baby, she didn’t understand. It was okay. She couldn’t tear us apart. Surah snapped her fingers.

“Listen, come back to the force. Lead the team again. You could make Three Faces so much safer.”

I snorted. As if I needed that responsibility.

“No. You can’t make me.”

“I can make you pay rent though.”

She put her hands on her hips. I glared.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh yes I would. And I will. It’s time you pulled your weight around here.”

“You politicians and your taxes.”

She rolled her eyes and stepped to the fridge where a premade sandwich waited like always. Joe was too good to her. She tore into it as if it would run away. If I was the sandwich, I’d run away too. Mostly because I’d be eaten if I didn’t.

“Chaos, you’ve gotta do something with your life. Don’t torment businessmen all day.”

“I did do something and it didn’t work out. Now I’m doing this. Besides, Tombo deserves everything coming to him.”

She paused her munching.

“You hit Thomas again? He’s been badgering me to put you down.”

“He’s a liar and a human trafficker.”

“Allegedly. He’s got the law on his side.”

She put the half-eaten sandwich back in the fridge. That was the end of her lunch.

“Plus, Genewall is good for Three Faces. If I arrested all evildoers, I wouldn’t have taken you in after you became ‘a supervillain’. The good you could potentially do far outweighs your little pranks. Peace requires a cost.”

I grumbled. There should be a limit to sacrifice. Well, it wasn’t my problem. Do-gooding could be left to heroes.