The first person to arrive is Zara, dropped off by her father in a dark blue Volvo that looks like it's never seen a pothole it didn't carefully avoid. She's wearing a black hoodie with some band logo I don't recognize and jeans that are probably more expensive than my entire outfit, and she gives a little wave before heading up the steps.

  "Hey," she says when she gets inside, and then she stops and just kind of stares at the space. "This is... wow. This is actually a real superhero base."

  "It's a converted music hall," Maggie says, but she's grinning. "But yeah, I guess it counts."

  Zara's doing this thing where she's trying to look casual but her eyes keep darting around, taking in the exposed brick and the high ceilings and the various pieces of equipment scattered around that probably do look pretty cool if you're not used to seeing them. "Do you guys have like, a computer system? Mission logs? Dispatch?"

  "We have a couple laptops and a lot of bad decisions documented in text files," I say. "Does that count?"

  We do have a dispatch desk, actually. It's in a corner, near the Faraday cage room, sort of in one of the "booths". The Music Hall's main floor (the second floor) is sort of sectioned off by like 7, 8 foot tall walls (as opposed to like... the 20 foot tall ceilings), one, two, three, four, five, six in total, carving the edges of the main floor into a bunch of smaller booths. Most of the booths are storage. Some of them have beds in them. And the smallest one in the corner has the most outlets, so that's where Tasha's computer system and radio station is set up.

  This is, of course, stuff I keep to myself.

  Lily laughs. "We're working on it. The organization part is still pretty new."

  Liam shows up about five minutes later on his bike, which he chains to the railing outside before coming in. He's grown again since the last session - kids his age do that, apparently, just shoot up like weeds when you're not looking. By like an inch. Or he's wearing new sneakers. His voice cracks when he says "Hey everyone" and he immediately looks embarrassed about it, but nobody comments.

  "You!" he says, looking at Lily with this kind of awed recognition. "I saw you at that thing on South Street like three years ago!"

  Lily blinks at him a couple of times. "Huh?"

  "With the whole team and everything. There was the fire at the bowling alley I think? On South Street?" Liam repeats, trying to drum her memory.

  "Oh!" She replies, looking away from him. From a different time, I guess. "Yeah. That was me. Hi! There was really nothing to it."

  "Are you kidding? You were amazing. You and that other girl, the one with the wind powers--"

  "Gale," Lily says, and her expression does something complicated for a second before smoothing out. "She moved away. But yeah, that was a good day."

  Davis is setting up his tablet to take notes, staying off to the side so he doesn't dominate the space. The whole vibe is pretty chill so far, which is good, because the next arrival immediately shifts the energy.

  Jasmine comes in after a couple of minutes of sitting outside in the stairwell. I think she came with Davis - he picked her up from wherever she's staying, - and she's all in black. Black sweats, black boots, black jacket over a black shirt. Her hair's in braids with little silver beads woven through, and she's got this closed-off expression that makes it really clear she does not want to be here and is only tolerating it because someone made her. Reminds me of Jordan.

  "Everyone, this is Jasmine Walker," Davis says. "Jasmine, this is Sam, Maggie, and Lily - they'll be running the program. And you've already met Zara and Liam."

  Jasmine nods at everyone without actually making eye contact and then finds a chair in the corner, as far from the circle as she can get while still technically being part of the group.

  Okay then.

  The last to arrive is Alex, and he shows up with this kind of easy confidence that immediately makes me think of Jordan, except Jordan earned it through being competent and Alex just seems to have it naturally. He's white, maybe sixteen, wearing a Phillies hoodie and jeans, and he's got this smile that's probably gotten him out of trouble more times than I can count.

  "Sorry I'm late," he says, not sounding particularly sorry. "Got turned around trying to find the place."

  "No worries," Davis says. "We're just getting started. Alex Kirby, everyone."

  "Wait," I say, because something's clicking. "Were you at the Harrisburg thing? The senate hearing?"

  His face lights up. "Yeah! Your mom's rally, right? That was intense. I remember you." He drops into one of the chairs, sprawling out like he owns the place. "Didn't expect you'd be my new therapist or whatever, haha. How you been? Small world, huh?"

  "Getting smaller," I agree, avoiding the question.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Once everyone's settled - or as settled as they're going to get, with Jasmine still radiating "leave me alone" energy from her corner - Davis clears his throat.

  "So," he says. "Before we really get started, I want to make sure everyone's clear on what this is. This is a pilot program. We're figuring this out as we go, and part of that means being transparent about the fact that in a couple months, we'll be doing a press conference to formally open this space to the public as a community resource." He looks around at all of us. "You're not lab rats. You're participants in building something new. But I need to know - is everyone comfortable with that?"

  Zara raises her hand slightly, like we're in class. "Will our identities be public? Like, will people know who we are?"

  "Our intent is to avoid publicizing specific cases," Davis says. "There's no medical or therapeutic action going on here, so there's no legal right to confidentiality. The, uh, Mayfair Auditors--" not our name, "have all signed NDAs, but you don't quite have the same rights and privileges as someone in a proper study. That being said, we intend to protect your privacy as a matter of course and ethical responsibility. If that answers your question?"

  "No. He means no, you won't," I clarify, when Lily starts blinking.

  "I'm fine with people knowing," Alex says immediately. "Not like it's a secret I have powers."

  Liam shrugs. "Yeah, same. Everyone in my neighborhood already knows anyway."

  Jasmine doesn't say anything, but she also doesn't object, which I'm taking as a win.

  "The Music Hall is staying as our base," Maggie adds. "We're just sharing it. We've already agreed to the community center plan. Because... we care you! I see this as part of our, uh, activities."

  "Superhero stuff," Liam says, grinning. "You can say superhero stuff."

  "Technically we're not superheroes anymore," I point out. "Legally speaking. Although I don't think Maggie ever really was?"

  Maggie shrugs and makes a sort of up and down noise.

  "Technically you're vigilantes," Alex says, and there's something in his tone that makes it sound like a compliment. "Which is cooler anyway."

  Davis gives me a look that very clearly says "we're going to have a conversation about that later" but doesn't comment. Instead he just makes a note on his tablet and says, "All right. Ground rules established. I'm going to let you all take it from here." He stands up, grabbing his jacket. "I'll be back in an hour to give rides home to anyone who needs one. Behave yourselves."

  And then he's gone, and it's just us and the kids, and I realize I have no idea how to actually run this thing.

  Lily saves me. "So," she says. "I know Zara and Liam have been working on power control. Want to show Alex and Jasmine what you've been practicing?"

  Zara looks uncertain for a second, then nods and pulls out a small bag of marbles from her hoodie pocket. She sets them on the floor in front of her, closes her eyes, and after a moment of concentration, one of the marbles lifts up about six inches, wobbling slightly in the air.

  "Glass control," she explains, eyes still closed. "I can sense it, move it. Small stuff is easier."

  "That's so cool," Alex says, leaning forward. "Can you do windows? Like, the big ones?"

  "I can sense them," Zara says. The marble drops back down. "But if I try to move anything bigger than this, it usually just... breaks. I'm working on it."

  Liam cracks his knuckles. "My turn." He closes his eyes, takes a breath, and when he opens them they've changed - the pupils have gone slit-like, the irises a weird amber color. "Dragon stuff. I can do more but it's, uh, it's a lot."

  "Do more," Alex says immediately.

  "Maybe not in here," I say, before Liam can get any ideas. "Save the full transformation for outside."

  His eyes shift back to normal and he looks a little relieved, honestly. "Yeah, it's pretty intense. And loud. The neighbors complained last time."

  "What about you?" Maggie asks, looking at Alex. "What can you do?"

  He holds out his hand and there's this soft whoomph sound as a small flame appears in his palm, hovering about an inch above his skin. "Torch-style pyrokinesis. I can make it bigger, hotter, more focused. This is just the party trick version."

  The flame smells faintly like propane and something alcoholic, which tracks. A small Akilah in my head corrects him - if you're making flame but you can't control what happens with it afterwards, it's pyrogenesis, not pyrokinesis. I squish it down. He lets it burn for a few seconds before closing his fist and extinguishing it.

  "And Jasmine?" Lily asks gently.

  From her corner, Jasmine just shakes her head once. "Pass."

  There's a moment of awkward silence, and then I say, "That's fine. You don't have to show us anything you're not comfortable with."

  She doesn't acknowledge that, but her shoulders relax slightly.

  We spend the next forty minutes just talking - about powers, about school, about what it's like trying to exist in a world that's not really built for people like us. Zara talks about how overwhelming it is to sense every piece of glass in a room. Liam talks about how his little brothers think his dragon form is the coolest thing ever and keep trying to get him to transform at family dinners. Alex mentions his parents barely notice when he practices. Jasmine doesn't say much, but she's listening. I can tell because occasionally she'll nod or make this little hmm sound when someone says something that resonates.

  Then, the conversation obviously shifts. Something a little less like an after-school program. A little more like shooting the shit. Everyone bothers Lily to tell them about what being in college is like, and I'm sure if Amelia was here they'd bother her about it too. Oy.

  By the time Davis comes back, the energy's shifted. It's not quite comfortable yet, but it's less hostile. More like a group of people who might actually become something given time. But there's no grand revelations, nothing that sticks in my head. I participate, but I'm only 80% here. 20% of me is still in the road, getting electrocuted, thinking about conspiracies. Not a lot. But it's still a solid one-fifth.

  "How'd it go?" Davis asks as people start gathering their stuff.

  "Good," Maggie says. "Really good, actually."

  Zara's the first to leave, picked up by her father again. Liam gets on his bike. Alex heads out on foot, mentioning something about meeting a friend nearby. Jasmine lingers for a second, like she might say something, but then just follows Davis to his car without a word.

  And then it's just the three of us again - me and Maggie and Lily - standing in our superhero base that's slowly becoming something else.

  "That went better than expected," Lily says.

  "Low bar," I point out, but I'm smiling.

  Maggie starts folding up the chairs. "So. Now that the responsible civic engagement portion of the evening is over..." She looks at me. "What did you want to talk about?"

  Right. The other thing.

  The Kingdom poisoning street drugs. Rogue Wave wanting help kidnapping Mr. Polygraph. Victor knowing someone manipulated him. All the threads I've been trying not to think about while playing mentor to a bunch of kids who just want to figure out how to exist.

  I pull out my phone. "We need to have a team meeting. A real one."