A giant pair of goggles were plastered across Cornelius Robinson's face, making him look like a giant-eyed bug with a bad hair day.

Behind him, men and women in labcoats scurried across the steel-plated floor. Stacks of blueprints were packed in their arms, and anxious expressions were displayed across their faces.

Their anxiety was not unfounded. The skilled scientists that were gathered in the room had stayed awake for hours – if not days – working on Cornelius Robinson's newest invention. This was a major, if not the biggest, project that they had ever worked on. There was no doubt about it; the invention that they had been assigned to build would change the world.

Provided, of course, that they didn't blow it up before it was completed.

Cornelius's eyes narrowed as he fingered the microchip that lay on the table before him. His hands shook as he attempted to place two incredibly small, incredibly delicate, wires together. The circuitry sparked gently as the wires neared each other, and sparks of electricity fizzed across the appliance.

A bead of sweat trickled down Cornelius's forehead. One small move could cause the microchip to short circuit. He required absolute concentration to conduct this task…

"Mr. Robinson."

BZZZZTTT! Just as the voice sounded in Cornelius's earpiece, his fingers zipped out of balance. The wires zipped past each other, and its fibres brushed across Cornelius's left hand. Despite being protected by a glove, volts of electricity shot through Cornelius's skin, causing him to drop the wires in pain.

Cornelius ripped the gloves off his aching palm, and gently massaged his fingers with his uninjured hand. He croaked, "Congratulations, Ms. Simmons. You have just succeeded in electrocuting me for the fifteenth time today."

"I'm sorry, sir," said the voice over the earpiece. (Funnily enough, she didn't sound very sorry to Mr. Robinson.) "I wouldn't interrupt you if it wasn't about something important."

Cornelius breathed, "No harm done, Ms. Simmons. Now, what exactly do you have to tell me?"

"You have a visitor, sir."

"A visitor? That's odd. I don't remember having any meetings or interviews today," pondered Cornelius.

"There's someone who would very much like to meet you," elaborated Ms. Simmons.

Cornelius sighed, "Can't it wait?"

Ms. Simmons's muffled voice sounded over the microphone, as she began to talk to Cornelius's visitor. Then, she answered, "Apparently not, Mr. Robinson. This young person seems very eager to see you."

"Oh," said Cornelius. Wilbur's face popped into his mind. "Yes, of course. Send him in."

Cornelius snatched the goggles off his eyes, and gently massaged his temples. The lack of sleep had given him a searing headache; one that he was certain would plague him for days.

Maybe, he decided, I can catch up on some sleep before my son arrives.

Cornelius rested his head on his desk, and closed his eyes for the first time in hours. However, just as he was about to drift off into sleep, he was interrupted by the sound of somebody zipping into the laboratory through the travel tubes.

Cornelius sighed, sleep would have to wait.

"Hey, kiddo," said Cornelius, sweeping around on his swivel chair. He turned to face his visitor, "You rarely visit me at work. What's up?"

Instead of looking into the sparkling brown eyes of his little boy, Cornelius came face-to-face with -

"Violet," gasped Cornelius. "Hello there, young lady." He surveyed her pale complexion, her bloodshot eyes, and her terrified expression. "Yowza. You look like you've gotten less sleep than I have. What seems to be the matter?"

"Mr. Robinson," hissed Violet. "There's something happening to me. Something that's very…very…oh, you're not going to believe me when I tell you."

Cornelius laughed. He put a hand on Violet's shivering shoulder. "Violet, you're talking to the man who's time travelled at least fifteen times in his entire life." Cornelius grinned. "I've had my share of unbelievable stories. I think I can handle yours."

Violet gulped, "You're in grave trouble, Mr. Robinson."

This was something that Cornelius did not expect to hear. Normally, when Violet or Wilbur struck conversations with him, they would usually say something along the lines of "can I have a bike, dad?" or "Mr. Robinson, Wilbur's asking me to use my powers to steal the answers for next week's pop quiz. Can you please knock some sense into him?"

He rarely heard them talk about anything so…well…threatening.

Cornelius blinked. "Violet, Franny's been telling me about how you've been feeling rather sick lately. Maybe you aught to lie down –"

"I'm not tired, nor am I crazy!" Insisted Violet. "Please listen to me – you're in trouble! There's someone out there who wants to hurt you."

"Hurt me? Who?"

"I…well, I don't know just yet," stammered Violet, "b-but you have to believe me!"

Cornelius - being the typical grown-up - was not ready to believe Violet's words just yet. Her claim was completely illogical – Violet didn't know who wanted to hurt Cornelius, so how could she possibly know that he was in danger?

Despite this, Cornelius remembered that Violet was one of the most level-headed teenagers he had ever met, and not to mention, one of the most trustworthy. She had never failed Cornelius before, so she could be…Cornelius feared…telling the truth.

Cornelius tightened his grip on Violet's shoulder. "Violet, you've hardly been wrong about life-and-death situations like this. Although, I have to admit, your claim seems quite unusual, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt."

"I can assure you, I am perfectly safe behind the walls of Robinson Industries. There are guards at every corner, cameras at every hallway; the security in this building is the best in the world," smiled Cornelius.

Violet shuddered. She wasn't entirely sure that this was enough to keep Cornelius safe from… whoever it was. Violet choked, "Mr. Robison, I-I…"

"I'll keep my guard up at all times, Violet. Don't worry, I'll be safe." Cornelius lowered his voice down into a whisper, "plus, the world's best teenage superhero has my back. I think that you'll send anyone who tries to hurt me screaming for their mommies." Cornelius grinned. "Won't you, invisigirl?"

Violet's anxiety melted somewhat away. Sure, there were still millions of questions, doubts and fears swirling around in her head. But for now, she found relief in the fact that Cornelius Robinson would be safe. Violet: 1, Bad guys: 0.

She nodded. "You bet'cha, sir."

Cornelius grinned, taking his hands off Violet's shoulders. He reached for his spectacles. "Now, if you'd excuse me, I'd best be getting back to work."

Cornelius gave Violet an apologetic smile, "Sorry, Vi. I'm afraid that you'd have to leave – Wilbur should be free today, and I'd bet my labcoat that he'd love to have you over."

"Okay, Mr. Robinson. I'll go," obeyed Violet. She grinned, "what are you working on, anyway? According to Cousin Lazlo, it's your greatest invention yet – you know, except for the time machine."

Cornelius chuckled, "I'm afraid that's classified information."

"Can you at least tell me its name?" asked Violet, walking towards the travel tubes.

She didn't expect Cornelius to adhere to her request, but to her surprise, he nodded hesitantly.

"Only its name. No other questions, okay?" demanded Cornelius, Violet nodded with a grin. As she stepped into the travel tube, she was bathed in a cool, blue light.

"I call it," said Cornelius, "Project: Metamorphosis."

Violet's mouth snapped open to speak. However, before she could utter a word, every ounce of air was ripped from her lungs. She was sucked upwards, and was shot her through the network of travel tubes within Robinsons Industries.

A horrible, lurching feeling dwelled deep within her stomach. Not because she felt sick from riding the travel tubes, but because she was convinced that Cornelius Robinson was in more danger than he could imagine.

"Dude, what happened? You guys totally left without saying a proper goodbye."

Wilbur Robinson faced a giant, holographic television screen. (And when I say giant, I mean giant. This television screen stretched all the way to the ceiling of his room, and was three times as wide as his bed…Stinkin' rich kids.)

Pete's face appeared on the television screen, disappointedly staring at Wilbur. Wilbur, who was currently sitting on his couch, pulled his knees up to his chest.

"Sorry, man – we had no choice," said Wilbur. "There's something crazy going on with Violet."

Pete scoffed, "My friend, there's always something crazy going on with Violet." His lips twisted into a grin, "if you haven't noticed yet – and I love her like a friend when I say this – she is the weirdest, craziest, most abnormal…"

Pete's voice cracked upon seeing the door to Wilbur's bedroom creak open, and Violet emerging from behind it. He continued, "…wonderful, beautiful, most amazing girl that you and I have the pleasure of meeting. Yep. That's what I think about Violet Parr."

Wilbur blinked. "She's right behind me, isn't she?"

Pete gulped, he lowered his voice. "Do you think she heard what I said? Y-you know, the stuff I said before she came into the room?"

"Yes I did," said Violet, flopping onto the couch alongside Wilbur. "Wilbur, remind me to boil him in burning pickle juice when he comes back from summer vacation."

"And remind me to run for my life." Smiled Pete, glancing jokingly at Violet.

Violet grinned back. Pete might be obnoxious, annoying and completely immature. But Violet had seen a side of Pete – the kind, caring side of Pete. Although Pete had a criminal record the size of Texas, he had a heart that was even bigger.

The trio spent the next hour chatting about how yesterday's Captain Future marathon was the best one they've sat through, and how Pete should – for the love of Scotland – refrain from playing his bagpipes. They chatted until it was time for Pete to board his flight. And, as they laughed and joked, the fear and sorrow in Violet's heart slowly melted away.

The moon shied behind a veil of clouds, and not a star hung in the black void above. Violet peered pensively out of her window, and into the night sky that loomed above. She was so lost in thought that she almost missed hearing the timid knock that resounded on her bedroom door.

Violet's head snapped towards the door. "Who is it?"

"It's just me," said Emely, entering the room, and shutting the door behind her.

She glided over to Violet. As she reached, she leaned upon the window ledge.

"How are you feeling?" she whispered.

"Terrified, Em," replied Violet. "Today, Mr. Robinson –"

"I know. I've read your mind," said Em. Violet shot her a disapproving glare, and Em shrugged unsmilingly in response.

"This time, I didn't choose to read your mind," answered Em. "Your thoughts were so loud that…now I know that this sounds crazy, they entered my mind. Your brain told me what you were thinking."

Violet sighed. "That happens every time that someone's overly worried about something, isn't it? Like the time Flame set your dad's good pants on fire? Their thoughts are so loud that they just jump out at you."

Em shrugged, "Something like that." She squinted. "It's hard to explain." She glanced back to Violet, "I suppose you haven't told Wilbur about…you know…Mr. Robinson?"

Violet stayed silent. She had no idea how to possibly tell Wilbur that his dad – his confidant and friend – could die within the fortnight. Wilbur would be worried sick. Either that, or he wouldn't believe her. Heck, he hardly believed her when she told him that Alpha was telepathically communicating with her.

If he didn't believe me about Alpha, thought Violet, why would he believe me about something like this?

"Because he's your friend," said Em. This caused Violet's head to turn slowly, curiously, towards her companion.

"Friends believe each other, no matter how crazy the tale," replied Em. She gave Violet a smile. "Trust me, as far as friends go, Wilbur's a pretty good one." She pushed herself off the windowsill. "He'll believe you."

A moment of silence passed between the two. Then, Emely ventured towards the exit, bid Violet goodnight, and closed the door behind her. As she left Violet's room, she made a mental note to tell her nosy siblings to leave Violet alone for the rest of the night. After all, she knew – somehow – that Violet needed to be left alone in order to conduct what she planned to do.

Violet breathed as she picked up her cell-pod. She pushed the giant button on the top of the device, causing a holographic screen to appear above the appliance.

She pushed the transparent buttons on the cell-pod, and waited as the call was transmitted. Seconds later, Wilbur's grinning face appeared on the holographic screen.

"Hi, Vi," greeted her friend, "what's up?"

Wilbur's smile melted away upon seeing the grim expression on Violet's face. Violet spoke, "Wilbur, you're my friend, aren't you? And you'll believe me when I say that I'll do anything in my power to stop what's going to happen, right?"

Wilbur was silent. "Vi, what do you mean?"

Violet gulped, "Something terrible's going to happen to your dad, and I have a feeling that it's linked to the device that he's making."

She choked, upon seeing Wilbur's eyes widen with fear. "I needed to tell you now, because I need you to keep an eye on your dad for me – if something, anything, happens to him, call me immediately."

Violet breathed, "Somehow, I have this horrible feeling that Mr. Robinson's life isn't the only one at stake. Whatever's going to happen isn't going to only happen to your dad...it's going to happen to everyone, and I mean everyone, that we know and love."