You were the second oldest child in the Parr family. Violet was fourteen, you were twelve, Dash was ten, and Jack-Jack was one, but even living under the same roof, you were always invisible. Not just because of your powers, but because no one seemed to notice you. From the age of four, you learned to take care of yourself. Your mother, Helen, the former Elastigirl, and your father, Bob, formerly known as Mr. Incredible, never did it on purpose, but they always forgot about you. You cooked what you could, went to school alone, found ways to entertain yourself, and read yourself stories before bed. You got used to the loneliness, though that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

You tried many times to get their attention. Even when they awakened your powers, you tried to show them, hoping for at least the slightest reaction. There was nothing. No one heard you. That's when something inside you broke. One day, after school, you decided not to go home. And you became a vigilante in Metroville (where you and your family lived).

With simple materials, you made a dark suit, adorned with a few red embellishments. You acquired a radio and listened to the police station, anticipating their reports. You stopped robberies, prevented petty crimes, and sometimes simply helped ordinary people. Not as a vigilante, but as a citizen. Heroes were outlawed, and the city needed them more than ever. You had plenty of work, and for the first time, you felt like you mattered.

You liked that life. No one saw you, but you saw everyone. Everything changed when your family defeated Syndrome's giant robot (along with Frozone). Heroes were accepted again, and your work became more dangerous. Even so, you persevered. Several times you were nearly caught by heroes who mistook you for a villain, but you escaped. You knew it was risky, but you couldn't stop. Being a vigilante was the only thing that truly felt like your own.

One night, you were sitting on a rooftop, orange juice in hand, the radio beside you. You were listening intently, waiting for the next call, when you heard footsteps. They didn't sound like a criminal's. Turning around, you saw them. Your family. All in their suits. They looked fine, you admitted that much. Nothing more.

You rolled your eyes, took another sip of your drink, and ignored them. You didn't care that they were there. To you, they were still just people who had never seen you. And you weren't about to let them take away the only life you'd ever built.