Bill never thought he’d see the day when Starbase 12—his sacred temple of all things nerd—would get an employee like her.

It started as just another pilgrimage, lugging a battered box of old action figures to trade in. His collection had grown too redundant—three Darth Vaders, two slightly different Swamp Things, a damaged Spider-Man that had survived a tragic shelf-diving accident. It was time to make room for new treasures.

That’s when he saw her.

Leaning against the counter, flipping through an issue of Sandman, was her.

She wasn’t like the usual Starbase 12 crowd—pale as death, lips painted black, dark eyeliner smudged just enough to look effortless. Dominated by black and subtle shades of purple. A choker hugged her throat, and a pair of combat boots rested on the counter like she owned the place.

And the worst part?

Bill had never seen her before.

Which meant one of two things: either she was some casual poser hired by an idiot manager who didn’t know the first thing about running a comic shop… or she was—God forbid—one of those weird goth girls who liked comics in a completely different way than he did.

He narrowed his eyes, already preparing for battle. He'd interrogate her first. Make sure she deserved to work here. Then, and only then, would he decide if she was worth… further consideration.