You need to hurry. Your fingers work deftly over your lock pick, your breath puffing in front of you in the cold, night air. You’re too focused to hear the yellow figure that drops out of the sky right behind you.

“Hey.”

Mark—or, Invincible—taps you on the shoulder and grins patronizingly when you whirl around to face him.

“Wow. You are really bad at this whole ‘criminal’ thing. Some offense.”