In the late afternoon, after much debating, Bob and Helen agree to let Wilbur go with the family on patrol. So, he waits in in the living room in anticipation while the Parrs suit up.

"Alright everyone, let's move out," announces Bob!

"Now remember Wilbur," says Helen, holding Jack-Jack. "Stay close to us unless we tell you to stay behind. If anything serious happens, go inside the nearest building."

"Yes, Maam," responds Wilbur.

"Dibs on the left window seat," says Dash, zipping out the door to the car.

"Hope you're ready for some life-threatening danger," says Violet.

"Wilbur Robinson is always ready."

"If you keep talking in the first-person, I'm not gonna like you."

"I get that a lot."

Everyone gets in the car and they drive off to Metroville.

Back in the city Magena and the boys walk through the streets of the city. She decided to explain what she is and where she came from, which Paul and Edgar manage to believe. As for what happened with her knee, they come to the conclusion that she can't exist as a supernatural being, but she can exist as a superhuman. And because she was mostly dead in her world, in this world, she has the power of regeneration.

"So in your world, time travel is possible," asks Paul?

"If it isn't, I should see a doctor about my hallucinations," Magena remarks.

"Un'd you are from Romania," adds Edgar?

"Much to my everlasting dismay."

"Magena, are you working right now?"

"No. Why?"

"You stared that jerk in the eye like it was no big deal and roughed him up like a champ at ten in the morning. And to top it off, you can't die."

"What's your point?"

"Edgar and I are interns for this guy we've been working for since last semester. I think you should meet him."

"I don't see why I'd wanna work right now. I'm not staying in this God-forsaken place."

"Do you know when you're going back home?"

"No."

"Well, you gotta have something to do while you're here. Why not get a part-time job? I think you'll like this one."

"What is the job?"

"Come with us and find out."

"... Lead the way."

Magena follows the boys down the street, curious as to what's in store for her. The teens go inside an accounting agency building, much to Magena's confusion.

"This is the career path you're recommending me," Magena asks, irritated? "I'm not wasting my life crunching numbers for people too lazy to do it themselves!"

"Magena," says Edgar, "you need to, how you say, look before you leap."

Paul walks up to the receptionist desk.

"Is Barrett Emroy in today?"

"Yes, I'll call him. Barrett, your interns are here."

"You're both interns for an accountant?"

"Accountants need coffee too, after all."

The teens wait for a bit until a gruff-looking old man in his sixties walks up to them. He has thinning grey hair and a five-o-clock shadow. He wears a very drab suit.

"Afternoon, Mr. Emroy," greets Edgar. "This is Magena Mortale. We brought her here so she can apply for the internship."

"You guys are killing me," groans Magena.

"Alright, follow me," says Emroy.

Emroy leads the teens through the office. As Magena suspected, the office is filled with middle-aged, zombified people asking themselves what they've done with their lives. Although, this makes her think to herself that Barrett doesn't look like the kind of guy who would have this sort of job. He looks more like an experienced cop with a tragic past.

Emroy stops at the janitor's closet and invites the teenagers in.

"The talking cricket in my head tells me this is suspicious," snarks Magena.

"These two wouldn't be working for me if did something illegal with them," retorts Emroy.

"Not unless that's what you pay them for."

"You look like a tough girl. If I do something you don't like, I'm sure you'll do something about it."

"I'm sure I will, too."

All four of them step into the closet and Emroy briefly looks behind the door before shutting it. He then takes a tan trenchcoat off a broom and puts it on.

"Okay, now what," Magena asks?

"Now, this."

Emroy goes to one of the shelves and pulls the trigger on a spray bottle. Instead of spraying liquid, the bottle triggers something underneath the floor. Magena gets caught off guard, not knowing what to expect. Suddenly, the floor sinks with the people on it. It goes lower and lower as if it ran on a motor. Magena looks confusingly at the males, who look back at her almost amusingly.

It takes a couple of minutes for them to reach their destination. When they do, Magena has no words. They've entered some kind of low-key intelligence agency.

A couple dozen in semi-professional clothes are working at large computers and passing on information. Some of them are monitoring security cameras from all over the city. The technology isn't as advanced as the ones on tv, but it's pretty impressive for an underground facility. The teenagers follow Emroy through the facility.

"What is all this,' asks Magena?

"My secret headquarters, Emroy answers. "We keep an eye on the city and do what we can to protect it."

"Isn't that cops and superheroes do?"

"Yes, but they stink at it. Supers and the police enforce the law, even though the law is unjust. There are plenty of people who commit crimes for petty reasons and/or messed up, but there are those who do it cause there's no other way. That's exactly what we do here."

I like this place

"Lab Rat, Dior, get to workin'."

"Yes, sir."

As instructed, the boys get to their stations. Paul tinkers with gadgets at his lab desk. Edgar draws on a sketchpad in a mini design studio. As they do, Emroy escorts Magena to his office.

The office looks like a typical police commissioner's office. He takes off his trenchcoat and hangs it on a coatrack. He sits at his desk while Magena sits in the chair in front of it.

"So, Lab Rat and Dior," she asks confusingly?

"Their codenames. Everyone here has one. Mine's Gerard."

"I get the reference. So, 'Lab Rat' told me I could get a job here."

"Yeah, like I said, we tackle the issue of crime by committing crimes. Doesn't make sense, but it works. The thing is we can only afford one person out in the field. Most people aren't willing to take this kind of job and those who do, well, they couldn't handle it."

"And that's where I come in?"

"Exactly.

"But, why would you hire teenagers?"

"Well, this agency is all about rebellion and no one's more rebellious than teenagers. That's why I hired the boys specifically."

"Specifically?"

"You see, Lab Rat's is the son of a well-known super from the silver age of heroes. His dad wanted him to be an Olympic snowboarder, but he's not cool and athletic like his old man. Dior is the nephew of a world-renowned super suit designer. She admires his skill, but he refuses to follow the dress code. Both of them want to go their own path, but someone was in their way. So, I gave them a choice and took them under my wing. Plus, Lab Rat provides funding with his hefty allowance."

Emroy stands up and goes to the window to lift the blinds just to look outside it.

"And where do you fit into this?"

"I used to work with supers. After a while, I didn't like their methods, but not for the reasons most people did back in the day. So many lives could have been spared if they went the extra mile, but they just played it safe. To make matters worse, they went into hiding and stood by while civilians were helpless at the hands of the scum on the streets."

"I know what you mean."

"Hmm?"

"There are hundreds of thousands of people who can barely survive on what little they have. When they try to help themselves and the people they care about, the authorities punish them. They lock people up for breaking the rules, but those rules prevent them from making an honest living in the first place. Even helping a complete stranger seems to get you in trouble, as if having basic decency is a punishable offense. I know there are people trying to fix these issues, but there aren't nearly enough... I just wish more people would help."

Magena hangs her head and looks down at her lap, lost in her thoughts. This is a difficult topic for her to discuss. She has suffered throughout most of her life with no help or even levity from anyone, not even the people she trusted. Therefore, when she reads and watches the news and finds out that so many horrors going on in their world, she knows people's pain and weeps for them inside. Emroy can sense Magena has controversial beliefs that she refuses to abandon, no matter how many times people threaten her. This must be why Lab Rat brought her here.

"But that doesn't stop you, does it? You stand for your beliefs and laugh at chumps to show that you're not afraid, I can tell. That's what makes you perfect for the job. Whattaya say?"

Magena thinks about this for a moment. She has always wanted to fight against the injustices of society. Maybe, she could do it now for the sake of others, at least in her own twisted way. And she might as well get paid for it.

"Well, if I'm gonna be stuck here, I might as well make the best of it."

"That's what I like to hear. Lab Rat's prepping you equipment and Dior should be finishing up your uniform."

"But he didn't take my measurements."

"He did while you weren't looking. Like I said, he's got skills. All you need now is a codename. Your choice."

Magena has trouble thinking about names. When most people decide on their alter-egos, they go with a name that's either abstract or a reference to something. There is one name she's used before, though it was someone else's dumb idea. She figures she might as well stick with it, as this shouldn't take up much time to think about.

Ghostpire.

The character Paul/Lab Rat belongs to the show, "Grossology." He has no connection to "Incredibles" or "Meet the Robinsons" outside of this series.

Sorry for the emo stuff near the end, but some us have those moments when we hear about a recent tragedy and we feel sorry about it (that is, when we don't fake it to make people think we're caring). This especially happens when we have our fair share of tragedies. It's also true that there are times when people don't help us when we really need it. That's why we need to reach out to people who are lonely a/o depressed. Not only will they feel better, but so will we.

P.S. If you do hear about something tragic, you probably will feel bad or at least sympathize with whoever is dealing with it. But you shouldn't feel bad about not feeling worse. You can't feel that bad unless you were involved or know someone personally who was involved. Just feeling bad at all mean you still have humanity. In the words of Daria:

"Feeling bad. Not feeling worse. Good."