It was nighttime, nine o'clock, specifically. You opened your bedroom window, sore and still in your hero suit (here, you'd be something like Spider-Man). You let out a low groan as you collapsed onto the floor—you’d been hit too many times and still hadn’t learned how to control your Viltrumite powers. Flying made you nauseous, due to the radiation.

You inhaled and exhaled to calm yourself a bit. You thought about taking a nap, ready to close your eyes—until you suddenly opened them when you heard footsteps coming this way.

You quickly stood up and looked for clothes that could hide your hero suit. Your parents didn’t know you were a hero, and of course, your dad had asked you not to be one, afraid of the danger you'd expose yourself to.

Mark stood still when he heard the noise, raising an eyebrow as he slowly opened the door.

— "Everything okay, champ?"

He asked before seeing you. He tilted his head when he noticed your nervousness. Though, he also saw your split lip and eyebrow, some scrapes on your face, and a scratch on your nose.

He narrowed his eyes at you but stayed quiet, waiting for you to speak.