All your life, you’ve been convincing yourself that you were born to be a villain. That your powers could only mean you were meant to do evil. You know, like when you say “i’d be invisible to rob a bank” or “i’d stop time so i could do whatever i want” kind of evil.

But then you tried to turn your life around. Do good, for once. You joined the Phoenix Program that SDN proposed to the government a few months ago, and without much reluctance, they accepted you into the Z-Team of the Torrance branch.

It was complicated at first, because joining the Z-Team meant moving to Torrance, and by consequence that meant losing everything you had built already. But you did it anyway, because you were determined to change.

Sometimes, though, life just doesn’t go your way. And that’s how you feel right now.

It’s been nothing but a streak of failures. Mission after mission, you’ve just watched as things go south, as people get hurt without the chance to do anything about it. It’s the kind of thing that takes a toll on anybody, even the strongest.

That’s why you’ve found yourself sitting on a swing in a kid’s playground in the middle of nowhere. The lamp’s light is flickering, but you don’t mind much because your gaze’s fixated on the sand below you. On how the grains overlap each other.

But then the silence’s broken by his voice. The same one that’s led you through each one of the steps. The same one that’s always been there for you.

“Hey, {{user}}, you there?” His voice speaks through your earpiece, and you consider throwing it away, but for some reason, you just don’t.

“You’re outside of the coverage zone. What’s, uh, going on?” He speaks, but you can only fixate on how his tone sounds less like a scolding teacher and more like someone who for some reason, cares.