"Well, well, well, isn't this a nice surprise? Static and his geeky sidekick signing autographs. Too cute."

"What do you want, Hotstreak?" Static demanded. Of all the places, why did Hotstreak choose this one?

Hotstreak's evil grin only grew wider. "Just to pay you a little visit. Why? Did you miss me?"

"No, not really," Gear interjected from behind Static.

Static narrowed his eyes at the pyromaniac. He wasn't in the mood for playing games. "Hotstreak, you and I both know that you came here for a reason, so you better tell me what it is before I haul you back to jail."

Hotstreak casually leaned against the wall of the comic shop, not showing the least bit of alarm. "Relax, I'm not here to fight...much. Taking on both you guys at the same time in this place? With all the cops around? I'm not an idiot."

"Then why are you here?"

Hotstreak created a fireball in his hands and began tossing it and catching it simultaneously. "To give you some intel."

Static raised his brow suspiciously. "What kind of intel exactly?"

He continued to lazily toss and catch the fireball, pretending the hero's question was of little importance to him. If there was anything Hotstreak loved, it was manipulating people.

"I thought you might wanna know that Ebon's been tracking you. He's got all your info, including your secret identity."

Static's eyes practically bulged out of their sockets. "Say what?!"

"You heard me," Hotstreak said. "Name, family, school, everything." He then pointed at Gear, who was watching the scene unfold behind the other superhero. "And he knows your sidekick's secret identity too."

The heroes exchanged nervous looks.

"But-but how?" Static asked. He and Gear hadn't been anywhere besides the gas station. And they pretty much had stayed Virgil and Richie around their homes and at school. It didn't make any sense.

"Ebon's got ways," the pyromaniac said. "He's not as stupid as he looks." So far, his plan was working perfectly, and Static's silence was all the more encouraging.

But the hero was skeptical. It was difficult for him to process the words coming out of the villain's mouth. Never, in a million years, would he have thought this would actually happen. But one thing was strange—he wasn't sure why Ebon would send Hotstreak to do his bidding, especially in this situation, as momentous as it was. Then again, Ebon had always been unpredictable.

"Why are you telling us this?" he asked. If his identity was indeed blown, he might as well find out what crazy stunt Ebon was trying to pull with it.

"Because..." Hotstreak paused, trying to come up with answer. "...because I was sent by Ebon himself to tell you that you need to stop interfering with his plans.

"And if we don't?"

The meta-human sneered. "Then you're gonna be real sorry."

Static's felt his stomach drop at the threat, but he didn't let his insecurity show. He merely glared at Hotstreak, growing irritated with the other bang-baby's antics. No matter what the pyromaniac said, he wasn't going to give him the advantage. He raised his fists in the air, allowing electricity to flow freely through them.

"Why doesn't Ebon come and tell me himself then?" he demanded. "Or maybe he doesn't have the guts to."

Hotstreak waved his arms in defense. "Hey, I'm just the messenger, okay. I don't know anything." He was slightly taken aback by Static's allegation, but he refused to be intimidated by the superhero.

On the other hand, Static's patience was wearing thin. Hotstreak knew something about the Meta-Breed's agenda that he wasn't letting on.

"Somehow I don't believe you."

Hotstreak scowled, frustrated that his plan was starting to fall apart. He did not expect Static to be so difficult. Man, was the guy full of it.

"I was trying to be nice."

"By what? Being Ebon's delivery boy?" Static said. "Sounds more like a joke to me."

The pyromaniac glowered at the hero, his anger reaching dangerous levels. "I'm warning you, I'll..."

"You'll what? Tell on us?" Static said mockingly.

"Okay, that's it!" Hotstreak eyes lit up, rage taking over him. "If you don't want my help, fine!" And with that, he conjured up a massive fireball and with one quick motion, propelled it at the heroes.

From a few feet away, Zoey watched in horror as the fireball barreled toward the heroes. They surely didn't have enough time to dodge it.

As soon as they saw flames, the remaining people who were in the comic shop shrieked in fear as they fled the area, no one wanting to become burnt toast at the hands of the bang-baby.

At the same time, the fireball hit its target, leaving a cloud of smoke where the heroes had been standing.

Hotstreak chuckled and wiped the imaginary filth from his hands. "That'll teach 'em."

Suddenly, the smoke started emitting a purplish light, which seemed to consume the smoke. Within seconds, the smoke gradually faded to reveal none other than Static, who had blocked the fireball with a shield of electricity.

The pyromaniac's eyes widened in surprise. He had expected the heroes to be somewhat weakened by his fire, if not completely destroyed, but neither of them had a single scratch on them. Ebon was right—Static was practically invincible.

Not knowing what else to do, and partly because he was afraid Static would retaliate, Hotstreak turned and ran towards the nearest exit, which so happened to be the hole in the wall he had made a few minutes ago.

"Where do you think you're going, Hothead?" Static called after him.

"Wouldn't you like to know," the other bang-baby replied as he darted to the exit. When he reached the exit, Hotstreak stopped and turned to face the heroes one last time. "Sayonara suckers. See you around." He gave them a final salute, and just like that, he was gone.

"You're not gonna let him get away are you?" Gear asked his partner.

Static shook his head. "He's not the one I'm worried about right now," he replied.

Both of them knew what that meant.

It was clear to them that from what Hotstreak said, Ebon was using their secret identities as blackmail to stop them from interfering with the Meta-Breeds' criminal activities, something they had feared would happen if their secret identities were discovered, which was still a mere possibility, an unconfirmed rumor in Static's eyes. But there was still a voice inside his head that he couldn't ignore telling him there was a chance it was true, and if it indeed was true, then everything they had fought to protect was compromised. Their friends, their family, and even their civilian selves were in danger.