I'm so sorry for taking so long to update. March was impossible for writing, with me doing my Lynncoln Month on Twitter, with a daily drawing all month long. And college has kept me incredibly busy throughout April and May. The life of the architecture student is reduced to nothing but studying hehe.

But oh well, here I am with a new chapter for this story. I appreciate the review that the previous chapter got. It always motivates me to try to come back to writing as soon as I can. It's a pleasure sharing this story with you guys.

Wollyworld: Thank you!

Jeff: Thank you for the kind review!

Clubhop: You're right about some things and wrong about others. Have fun figuring out which are which!

STR2D3PO: We'll see about that!

Kyth Marquez: The questions to those answers will be revealed either this chapter or later down the road.

Imagaco: Falcon and Tormenta's relationship and their hero stories will be explored later on.

meowloudly15: Probably what ended up happening.

burtonfan422: That's my intention, to make these stories as… accurate as possible I guess to regular superhero movies/stories. So I'm happy to hear that at least it paints interesting imagery in people's heads!

Tristpht: In all honesty, I thought I had a clear roadmap of where I wanted Lincoln to head into, but so much time has passed since I started this that my plans may be changing a little bit. We'll see how it goes.

Guest: How rude.

Chapter 5: The Casagrandes.

La Cobra's defeat caused such mayhem that, if it wasn't for me feeling more pain than I remembered ever experiencing in my entire hero career, it would have left me way more confused and overwhelmed than I already felt. What little I can remember from those chaotic seconds was that enough cops to guarantee safety at the Super Bowl arrived, and between them and the media coming in hot for a story, the streets near the bank looked like a riot.

Several cops approached me intending to question me and make sure La Cobra was truly unconscious, swirling upon us like a swarm of locusts. As five officers made quick work of putting special handcuffs onto the villain's wrists, legs, and tail, almost a dozen stood by at the ready with their guns aiming at La Cobra, ready to shoot should he wake up and decide that it wasn't in his plans to surrender peacefully. The rest walked closer to me with some hesitation, although most of them looked visibly impressed. They tried to ask me all sorts of questions, but my exhaustion wouldn't let me focus on any one of their inquiries.

Luckily for me, the sea of cops spread, opening a path for a stout Moses.

"Good afternoon, young one," the man said, fixing his pants up as if his leather belt was fighting a losing war. "I'm Commissioner Gordo."

"Good afternoon, uh, Commissioner Gordo."

"So it's true," he said, looking sideways where the limp figure of La Cobra rested. "He was beaten. Dear God. I see it and I still can't believe it."

He placed his eyes on me and gave me a quick examination.

"Part of my job is to always be aware of all the metas that use their powers both for good and evil in my city. I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've seen you, young lady. Which hero do I have the honor of speaking to?"

"Nova, sir," I replied, quickly identifying my opportunity to move forward with my mission. "And you're right, this is my first day at Great Lakes City. Don't worry, though, I'll only be staying in the city for a couple of days."

"Wait, what?" He said, fixing his glasses. "Are you telling me a tourist defeated La Cobra?"

I sensed an immediate change in his tone and the way he called me a tourist didn't sit well with me. Had I messed up somehow? I needed to have him on my side to get to ask him about hero agencies that might be interested in sponsoring or giving me insurance. Even then, as much as I needed him on my side, I wouldn't let him treat me like a simple tourist. So rude.

"I don't even know who that guy is," I said, dismissively waving at the villain. "I just saw people in need and decided to act."

"So you decided to interfere without even knowing what you were facing?"

"Precisely," I said with a smile, satisfied with my heroism.

"Do you have a hero insurance?"

My smile was wiped away like a fly on a windshield. "Uh… Well, I mean…"

Commissioner Gordo raised a hand to shut me up, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes with great emphasis.

"Are you telling me you interfered with an active hostage situation without having a license or insurance?"

I opened my mouth to protest, but I found myself speechless. Was I literally being scolded for saving a bank robbery?

"There are four injured criminals! We have one confirmed kill!" The Commissioner said. "And in your attempt to stop La Cobra you destroyed a building that's considered a Cultural Heritage of the city! That bank was inaugurated by President Savino himself! Who's going to pay for that?"

"And what was I supposed to do? Sit by while the villains take hostages?"

"You should have waited for a real hero to show up."

I clenched my fists and kept my emotions under control to stop my aura from flaring up. "I am a real hero!"

"Not in the eyes of the law. Without a license or insurance, you're nothing but a vigilante. You do know that a hero without proper paperwork has to face an audit, and if they fail to prove that there was no other way of stopping a crime without collateral damage they must pay for the damages, right? Do you honestly believe you can prove that a rookie that's not even a citizen of Great Lakes City had no other option than to face a leader of the crime syndicate? Don't you think the jury will think you did this for some cheap publicity without caring for the damages caused?"

I bit my lip, unable to defend myself. He sighed, shaking his head.

"Listen, kid, I know you did what you thought was right. That's how heroes are at your age. But in the real world, there are consequences. Metas can't go around thinking they're entitled to do what they think it's right. Any other citizen has to work hard, prepare for years, and study to become a cop. Do you think that just because you were born with powers you're free of the consequences of your acts? If you have no insurance, I suggest you get a lawyer."

"That won't be necessary," someone behind us said.

When I turned around, I found the same boy that called himself El Falcon de Fuego. His face was covered in blood, and under his helmet, I could see his left eye swollen like a tennis ball. His little sister, La Tormenta, walked beside him like she expected him to trip over himself at any second.

Falcon walked right up next to me, and I noticed that his majestic fire wings weren't flaming on his back anymore. He glanced at me before addressing the Commissioner.

"Sorry for interrupting, Commissioner Gordo," he apologized with a bloody grin.

"Ah, yes, I've seen you before. You're, uh…"

"El Falcon de Fuego."

"Yeah, right. Yeah. I remember you now. So, I take it you were involved in this too?"

"That's right."

"He's the one that kept La Cobra busy," La Tormenta said, giving me a quick, angry look. "He got here just in time to save the day."

"You don't say." The commissioner squinted his eyes.

"Well, to be fair, I was basically just La Cobra's punching bag for a little while," the hero admitted, earning a panicked look from his sister. "But I was involved, yeah. So you can have my insurance."

He began looking into his utility belt, but soon squinted his eyes —or the one he could keep open, at the very least— when he didn't seem to find what he was looking for. La Tormenta sighed and checked her own suit, quickly producing what looked like a small credit card that she extended to the Commissioner.

"Oh, there it is!" Falcon said with a smile. "We were part of the rescue operation, so our insurance should cover the damages caused in the fight."

The commissioner's eyes danced between Falcon, Tormenta, myself, and then back to Falcon. He seemed to consider the situation for a few seconds before shrugging.

"Eh, that's a lot less paperwork, so yeah, no problem," he casually said. "This card's on your name, kid, so come with me for a second."

"My name is La Tormenta," she said, puffing her cheeks in an extremely cute angry pout.

"Alright, Tormenta. Let's sign some papers."

The commissioner and La Tormenta walked away into a group of cops that carried several tablets and notepads, leaving me alone with El Falcon, or at the very least, as alone as one could be in a crowd. I sighed and turned to look at him.

"Thanks for that," I said.

"Oh, no worries. Sorry for listening in. And don't worry, I won't take credit for this. You were the one fighting him, and you beat him. This victory's yours."

After what had ended up turning into a quite stressful conversation, those words filled my heart with joy. For a moment, I even forgot the paralyzing pain that surged through every inch of my body.

And then I moved a hand to fix my hair, and I remembered it with a scowl.

"I don't care about the credit," I said, although I wasn't entirely sure that was true. "And what you said to the commissioner is kinda downplaying yourself. You weren't just a punching bag. You saved my life."

"By turning into a punching bag," he repeated, shrugging. "And if it wasn't for you and Tormenta helping me out, La Cobra would've killed me too. So don't worry, we're even."

He smiled at me, and I smiled at him. I didn't know how to continue with the conversation, so we stayed in awkward silence until he broke the ice again.

"Did you really not know who La Cobra was?" He asked me.

"No. I didn't even know that a supervillain was involved in this. The cops told me some bad guys were involved. I assumed they were regular criminals."

"I see. Still… you're not even from around here. From what I could hear at least. You didn't have to put yourself in that situation."

"Maybe not, but… what was I supposed to do? People were in danger."

Falcon smiled, nodding along.

"I getcha. Sometimes I feel like the whole world's trying their best to make our job as hard as possible. It's like they don't want us to save people! Don't they realize that's the only reason why we wear ridiculous costumes like these?" He pointed at his hawk-shaped helmet.

We both laughed at that, but our laughing turned into coughing and groans of pain as we grabbed our ribcages. Unfortunately, noticing our terrible state made us laugh even harder, making the pain stronger in turn.

"Please, don't make me laugh," I asked, my face struggling between smiling and showing the intense pain I felt.

"Sorry, sorry," he said. "Had you been fighting for a while before I got here?"

"Just a couple of minutes."

"I see. He looked super pissed."

"He was. And he definitely took it out on us."

El Falcon opened his mouth but closed it right away, catching himself before saying something. He glanced away and bit his lip before turning back at me.

"Listen, I, uh, I know it's none of my business, but… If you don't have insurance, do you at least have, you know, a hero healthcare plan or something?"

Of course, I didn't. I had no healthcare at all, in fact. Not since Ace Savvy had died. Leni and I just stayed home in bed until our wounds healed, taking care of each other. I could hear my wallet screaming in pain just by imagining how much a clinic would try to charge me to tend to my wounds.

I didn't say anything, and El Falcon interpreted my silence.

"Hey, don't worry, I getcha," he assured me. "I didn't have anything when I started. So listen, uh… If you want, you can come with us to our agency. We have an infirmary there, my mom's a doctor. Not gonna charge you or anything, seriously."

I subconsciously took a step back. Going to his agency? What did he mean by that? His home? I wasn't entirely sure that was a good idea. Not that I didn't trust him. He had, after all, a Hero License. Could there be any better proof of someone being a good person? And he'd saved my life, which automatically gave him quite the credibility in that regard. I had a job to do in the city, however, so I couldn't afford any distractions.

Unless… Well, it's not like I couldn't multitask. The Falcon was a local hero, he'd probably be able to paint me a picture of who I should talk to, or where to go to get what I needed. I'd done my homework and found some candidates on the internet, but nothing could beat a personal recommendation from someone with experience in that world so alien to me.

Besides, being honest, the idea of a doctor checking me out and giving me some painkillers was more than tempting.

"I don't wanna bother you," I said, however, not wanting to look desperate.

"Oh, please, don't worry. I told you, you saved my life. It's the least I could do. Besides, what kind of hero would I be if I didn't offer my help to a newly arrived hero in the city?"

I found myself surrounded by the warm and elusive feeling of gratitude that was so hard to find in Royal Woods. The police over there had just barely begun to trust Leni and me. The public still considered us a duo of young, inexperienced, dangerous heroes. The media kept questioning our efficacy ever since Spade had died. As I've repeated ad nauseam, my sister was the only one in the world I could fully trust. No one else looked after us, no one else trusted or cared about us. Wherever we went, we were met with uncertainty at best and hostility at worst.

It was hard for me to remember anyone that had truly cared about us like that. Most of my interactions with other people tended to be on the negative side. The fact that Falcon appeared kind and willing to lend me a hand was as odd as the rest of the big city to me.

I wondered which of the two sides of the city was the one that truly represented it: the commissioner nagging me for trying to help, or the gentle Falcon that saved my life and invited me to his agency.

I hoped it was more of the second.

"If that's the case, then I'd be happy to go with you to your agency," I timidly accepted.

His beaten, swollen face twisted into a surprisingly sincere smile. "Perfect. I saw you can fly, so as soon as my sister's done with that insurance stuff we can go to our agency."

He raised his arm and extended it to me, offering his hand.

"What was your name again?"

I looked at his face and his hand. We were heroes, yeah, and I could even say that I actually kind of liked him based on the few interactions we had in such a short time. But I needed to deal with the inexorable reality that he was a boy my age, offering a hand for me to shake.

My life at Royal Woods didn't exactly leave me with time or energy to let my mind wander and think about boys and stuff. But right then, in an unknown city while I was talking with the first metahuman my age I ever knew outside of my family, I couldn't stop noticing how attractive he seemed. Even with all the wounds on his face and his bird costume.

"Nova," I finally said, gently grabbing his hand. "My name's Nova."

The three of us soared in the sky a little slower than I would have probably done in normal circumstances, but at the perfect speed to enjoy the urban landscape as a tourist. A faint layer of energy covered my body, propelling me through the air as I moved my head all over the place, trying to absorb as much of the city as I could. It was hard for me to understand how people could walk past the streets looking down, at their phones and feet, ignoring the skyscrapers and the beautiful architecture all around them.

"It's impressive, isn't it?" Falcon asked me to my left.

I turned to see him, which is something I had actively avoided for the past five minutes. Even beaten up, his posture and presence were quite heroic as he flew. The pair of igneous wings had sprouted once again from his shoulder blades, and the sound of the fire crackling as he flapped them was relaxing but also intense.

I was dying to know how his powers worked, but I was afraid of being too obvious if I just stared at him while we flew around. A girl should never show interest right from the start.

I remembered he'd asked me a question, probably referring to the buildings around us.

"Yeah. It's crazy how tall everything's around here."

"Are you from a village or something?" Asked, from my right, La Tormenta.

I'd also been avoiding looking at her, but not because I didn't want to get distracted or send the wrong message, but rather because every time I turned to look at her, her eyes seemed to be laser-focused on me, like I was wearing the giant helm of La Cobra over my head.

The fact that the girl was soaring in the sky riding a black storm cloud like it was a skateboard, letting out tiny sparkles and flashes of light now and then didn't help to make me feel comfortable or safe talking to her. I felt like I was one mess-up away from being struck by lightning.

"Tormenta, don't be rude," Falcon complained.

"What? I just asked a question."

"It sounded rude."

"It's alright," I quickly intervened. "The town where I come from is so much smaller than this. We have, like, what? Twenty thousand people living there or something like that? I'm not sure, but it's pretty small."

"Twenty thousand? Wow, we have close to a million over here. That's like… at least six times as much."

I laughed at what I assumed was a joke, but El Falcon stared at me dead serious. I turned to look at La Tormenta. She rolled her eyes and shrugged.

Okay. The guy with the fire wings wasn't precisely a math major. Good to know.

"So anyway, this is literally the first time I'm visiting another city," I said, trying to keep it cool between us. "It's a nice little adventure coming here and seeing new things. Though I definitely didn't expect my first day to include a battle against a villain."

"And not any villain. A supervillain."

"One of the worst in the history of this town," added Tormenta, shivering as the cloud beneath her feet let out a flash of lightning.

"Well, then I was lucky enough to get two awesome heroes to help me out," I said, making them both smile.

"You were holding up pretty well though," the girl admitted, smiling without looking at me. "It looked so cool when you stood up and you went in like SWOOSH! And then you stood in front of him and gave him a WHAM! and then toss him in the air like WOOHOO!"

She accompanied each of her verbalized onomatopoeias with swift movements of her cloud, imitating skateboard tricks. Falcon stared at her with a warm smile, and I let out a muffled laugh, trying to avoid hurting my ribs. I failed.

Even then, with a kinder, friendlier atmosphere among us, the three of us kept moving through the air until the heroes announced we'd reached our destination. Their hero agency wasn't as spectacular as the ones in the movies, glass towers that grew into the sky until they touched the clouds, crowned with the logo or the name of the hero in fluorescent lights that shone bright like a beacon at night.

I found, instead, a small, three or four stories building that rather reminded me of the apartments where Leni and I lived back in our beloved Royal Woods. It was a rectangular volume with brick walls and small, individual windows that delineated each floor. The ground floor was taller than the rest of the floors, materialized in thick stonework, much bigger than the bricks that stood above it. The whole thing could pass as a regular apartment building.

The only elements that helped us citizens recognize that the building hosted a hero agency were the flags and the big sign. Said sign was placed vertically, just like one would expect from a low-star hotel. It read "HERO AGENCY", though the C and the H flickered, alternating between on and off.

And then, of course, the flags. They had the typical flags of most buildings at the entrance, with the State flag and one from Mexico that, I assumed, represented the family roots. But the one waving higher and most prominently was the heroic flag. A tradition that was far more common in big cities with a bunch of heroes, and not so much in small towns like Royal Woods.

As an attempt to modernize and recontextualize the old medieval heraldry, it had become sort of a tradition for heroes to design their flags. It usually included the main colors of their suits and their logo, though there were versions as simple as a plain flag with two colors, and as complex as if it was a gothic design. These flags were put on tall white poles with a golden top, signaling that a hero lived or was commemorated in that building. There were some more rules that I honestly wasn't familiar with, like a black tip representing a hero that died in battle, or whatever a trident tip meant.

Ace Savvy had never used a heroic flag. "My acts are my flags," he used to say. And without him to guide us, not Leni or I had felt comfortable coming up with our own designs. What was the point of coming up with our own identity if we were the only two heroes in a hero-less town? Now we had a third one, the brand new Ace Savvy, but it still seemed like it was too little to justify us having a flag meant to identify us.

I curiously paid attention to the design of Falcon's heroic flag. Naturally, the background was an electric blue, as vibrant as the one he wore. The shield itself was surrounded by white clouds, with rain and some lightning coming out from the bottom ones. At the center, a red bird of prey with orange claws and beak. The tip of its feathers waved like tides, or rather, tongues of fire. It was surrounded by a golden laurel wreath, and strangely enough, it had a snake on its claws.

"What's the snake for? What does it mean?" I asked, pointing at the flag.

"The snake? Oh, yeah. Well, it's uh, it has like two meanings," Falcon said, sounding embarrassed. "On one hand, it represents Mexico. My whole family's from there, and even though I was born here in Great Lakes, I feel pretty identified by the Latino culture, y'know? There's not a lot of Mexican heroes over here in the States, so I thought it'd be cool to show it."

"I see. That makes sense. It's cool that you feel so strongly about your culture and stuff," I said, trying to be respectful.

"Thanks."

"So what's the other meaning?"

Falcon looked away, his cheeks painted with a warm shade that didn't come from the giant wings on his back.

"Well… I mean, I was super young when I designed it, y'know? And I… I mean, I don't know, I didn't think too much of it, but—"

"It represents El Falcon defeating the forces of evil," La Tormenta finished for him, doing air quotes in the air and explaining it like she'd read it from a textbook. Falcon looked at her open-mouthed, visibly betrayed.

"Aw, I like that," I sincerely said, though I made sure to sound a bit more impressed than I actually was. "That's a pretty clear declaration of principles."

"You don't… think it's a bit lame?" He asked with a hint of hope.

"Not at all! There are a lot of heroes that specialize in rescue missions or fighting natural disasters. I was always more into the idea of being the type of hero that faces villains. Neutralizing threats to protect those who can't defend themselves. I think it's awesome that you make it clear that that's the kind of hero you want to be. It's super commendable."

Even though his face was mauled and his costume was splattered with his blood, he puffed his chest out as he felt like the most powerful hero on the planet, so proud and radiant as his wings and smile.

"Someone finally gets it," he mumbled to himself, before shaking his head. "Anyway, the hero landing is on the rooftop. Follow me."

So I did, hovering through the air until we reached a homemade platform. It was a clear attempt at imitating a heliport, but having used the one at Yates Tower many times to hang out with Leni or Spade, I could tell that this one wasn't built to code. As a, let's say, artistic interpretation of one though, it was pretty okay. The rooftop was empty aside from the platform, with only the small cabin that held the evacuation staircases of the building, just like the one where Leni and I lived. El Falcon walked there, and La Tormenta followed suit, although she gave me one last questioning look. She didn't seem to be as hostile anymore, but my sixth feminine sense told me that she wasn't sure she could trust me yet.

I couldn't blame her. I wouldn't trust so much on a stranger either.

Falcon pressed a code on a small panel that seemed to act as an alarm or some other form of security, and he then opened the door. The fire wings on his back dimmed out until they flickered away, and I could finally see that his costume had two holes on his shoulder blades, showing his skin. Did that mean that fire emerged from there and took the shape of wings on its own? Didn't he have an appendage or anything? Weird, but relatively acceptable within the spectrum of weirdness in metahuman abilities.

"Welcome to the Agency of the Guardians of the Firmament," he told me, leaving the door open for me to walk after him.

This superhero access was, just as I'd suspected, nothing more and nothing less than a regular apartment building's staircase, boring and lacking proper illumination. We descended without too much consideration a whole floor until we reached the first exit door, and that's where Falcon stopped and turned to look at me.

"Uh, so I guess this is a good time to mention that this is a family-run agency," he said, almost as a warning.

To be perfectly frank, I'd suspected as much. At the very least, the facade and the architecture of the building made it look more like a freelancer agency rather than one run by a big company or a professional management agency. Which wasn't a bad thing at all, so I didn't understand what seemed to have him so worried.

"Oh, don't worry. I think it's nice that you and your family run your own agency."

"Yeah, well, but… It's uh… Let's say that my family is pretty…"

"Grande," Tormenta finished in Spanish.

"And peculiar," the hero added.

I didn't get what he was trying to tell me. "Like I said, I don't wanna be a bother," I managed to say.

"No, no! It's not like that! On the contrary… I just wanted to apologize in case they're too abrasive."

"Oh. Don't worry about it," I assured him.

How abrasive could they be to warrant a warning like that?"

I figured it out as soon as El Falcon opened the door and a dog the size of a bike jumped onto him, tackling him and almost taking me along with them.

"Lalo!" The hero complained in between laughs, letting out some grunts of pain as the animal licked his face. "Careful with my ribs, buddy. I'm still not sure I have them all."

"Come on Lalo, let him go," Tormenta asked with a smile, crouching next to the dog that almost doubled her in size as she patted his back and scratched beneath his neck. Lalo, as the dog seemed to be called, moved away from Falcon and rolled on the floor next to him, letting the girl pet him. Despite his massive form, he smiled and enjoyed the attention like he was but a puppy.

"Lalo! Leave the heroes alone!" A boy said, rapidly getting next to the dog, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him back. The kid, about twelve or thirteen years old, wore a yellow shirt and some blue shorts.

"Thanks, CJ," El Falcon said, standing up with wobbling legs and wiping his face with the sleeves of his spandex suit.

"You're welcome. Mom and aunt Maria were super worried when they saw you on the news," CJ mentioned, managing to get Lalo to stand next to him.

"I'm shocked that our tía isn't here crying a river already," La Tormenta mumbled, stretching out her arms as if she'd just woken up.

She had just finished that sentence when the sound of what appeared to be a maddening crowd approaching got louder and louder until we were surrounded by eight more people of all ages.

The one that caught my eye first was a lady with a pink dress carrying a red-haired baby. She ran straight into Falcon and Tormenta, pulling them into a hug and crying like she was trying to fill an Olympic swim pool by herself. The hawk hero flinched at the embrace, but he didn't vocalize his pain. Tormenta didn't complain either, though her annoyed face made it evident that she was counting the seconds for that hug to end.

"We saw you on the news!" The woman wailed, with the baby nodding along. "I was just getting the studio ready for the next photoshoot when your faces were on every news channel! How terrible! You were supposed to just patrol a low-crime neighborhood!"

"Sorry, auntie," Falcon whimpered. "It just kinda happened."

"Alright, mija, let them go!" An old woman intervened, short and stout, with her long black hair picked up in a bun and wearing a dark blue dress partially covered by an aquamarine apron.

Falcon's aunt released her nephew and niece and nodded, taking out a silk handkerchief that she had to squeeze to get the excess water out of it before she could dry her tears. The heroes looked thankfully at the old woman, but their expressions turned into ones of worry when they saw the threatening look in her eyes.

"How dare you two fight La Cobra?!" She lashed out at them, grabbing El Falcon by his shoulders and violently shaking him around. "Your grandma always tells you not to mess with anyone from the Triumvirate! Am I not clear when I say that?! Of course I am! I'm always telling you! And you didn't listen to me! If you ever get in trouble with the Triumvirate again I swear to God and all the Saints that not even La Cobra's going to hit as hard as my chancla!"

"Rosa, give them a break," a younger man said, tall and rocking a thick beard. Judging by his physicality and what little I could see of Falcon's face, it seemed evident that this was his father. "The kids just went through a traumatic experience. Let them rest and enjoy the good press that'll come out of this."

"Don't forget that before their manager you're their father, Arturo!" The old lady warned him. "I don't care about some little good press, what they did was foolish."

"Uh, some little good press? Abuela, you're selling it so short!" Said a girl that seemed to be about my age or perhaps Leni's, with a long ponytail and a turquoise dress. "Falcon and Tormenta are trending on social media! Everyone's talking about them. Their profiles got more views in half an hour than we usually get in two weeks. The analytics are crazy! I'm getting a statement ready to post and take advantage of these levels of interaction, maybe this is the chance we were waiting for to go viral!"

"This might help us get some new investors," an old man relished, rubbing his hands. He was as short as Rosa, bald, and with a big, gray mustache. "Or at least to renew our contracts with our sponsors. Vito Filliponio has been getting publicity almost for free for months already."

"Dad, do you really think this is the time to talk about businesses?" Asked a woman that, judging by her nurse uniform, I assumed was Falcon and Tormenta's mother.

The heroes' grandfather shrugged, and an adult man next to him, wearing square glasses and a light green sweater, approached Falcon and Tormenta as he frenetically scanned a huge book.

"Was there any trouble with Commissioner Gordo? I'm reading the Great Lakes Metahuman Legislation and we, uh, we might be facing a lawsuit for damaging the city's Cultural Heritage. But I'm already preparing a defense under clause two point eight point two thousand and sixteen! There's some legal precedent to avoid a civil lawsuit!"

"Bah, don't worry 'bout that!" A little kid that couldn't be older than six said, wearing a red hoodie and blue pants. "Who'd be willing to sue the heroes that defeated La Cobra? La Cobra! They're gonna be giving us free pizza for the rest of our lives as a thank you!"

His eyes lit up as stars and a considerable amount of drool came out of the corner of his mouth. It reminded me of the irrational love Leni and I felt for pizza, and a giggle escaped my lips.

Apparently, it was loud enough to get the kid to look in my direction, his eyes meeting mine, and he stood there petrified for several seconds. His pupils grew wide and his jaw dropped wide open. With a squeal, he wiped the drool out of his face with his sleeve.

"Wow, wow, wow!" The boy said, quickly combing his hair with his hand and fixing his clothes before leaning against a wall in a failed but adorable attempt to look cool and confident. "Who's the señorita?"

At first, I'd just assumed that the family had decided to ignore me simply because they were too worried about Falcon and Tormenta's health, but I soon realized that, in fact, they hadn't even realized I was there until then. They all turned their heads at me and blinked in surprise, likely wondering how a teenager could materialize right in front of them. They comprehended that I probably wasn't a metahuman with teleportation powers and that I had indeed been standing there for the past five minutes.

The whole family took a step away from the young heroes and stood in line, staring carefully at me, and in some cases, with certain embarrassment on their faces.

Falcon cleared his throat.

"Familia, let me introduce you to Nova," he said, pointing at me and allowing me to raise a hand to timidly wave at his family. "Nova, this is my family, the Casagrandes."

"Oh, oh, oh!" The girl our age said. "You're the one that was there at the bank, the one that fought La Cobra!"

"That would be me, yeah."

"Wow, you're much younger than I expected," Arturo said. "When we saw you on the news standing above La Cobra you looked like such a seasoned hero."

"I've got some experience," I humbly said.

"Alright, alright, let's not embarrass anyone," Falcon asked, although his blushing face seemed to indicate that he was the only one uncomfortable. "I invited her over here since, well, she's not from around town, and since she kinda saved my life, I thought mom could maybe give her a check-up and clean her wounds."

"Oh, of course," the woman said, taking a step forward and smiling at me. "Thank you so much for helping my kids. I'm Maria, the agency's nurse."

"Our doctor," Arturo corrected her, stepping closer and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You don't need a diploma to prove it to us."

"Oh, stop it you." Maria smiled and gave him a peck on the lips.

"Alright, so we're kind of a big family, and I think it'd be better if we got the introductions out of the way first. I'm Arturo Santiago, father of the kids and the manager of the Guardians of the Firmament."

"Hi!" The girl with the turquoise dress. "I'm Carlota. I'm Falcon and Tormenta's cousin and the community manager of their social media and the agency's."

The woman that had been crying at the beginning of the reunion was wiping her tears away but managed to get a grip on herself enough to introduce herself.

"I'm Frida, aunt of the Guardians and their Image Consultant. And he's Carlitos."

The baby waved his hand but said nothing.

"Ehem. I apologized for not having noticed you before. My name is Carlos Casagrande. I'm Frida's husband, and I work here as the Legal Advisor of the Guardians of the Firmament's Agency."

"I'm CJ! I'm the clerk! Falcon and Tormenta are my cousins!" The boy with the yellow shirt said, intensely waving his hand at me.

"I'm Hector, pleasure to meet you," the grandfather said. "I'm the accountant and bursar of the agency."

"And I'm Rosa," the old woman said, smiling at me like she knew me for years. "I'm simply the Guardian's abuela, I don't do anything at the agency."

Falcon snorted.

"She's basically our CEO," he explained to me. "She's in charge of everything."

"I'm just doing what I can to look after my grandchildren," she said with modesty.

And speaking of modesty…

"And saving the best for last," the young boy with the hoodie interrupted, standing in front of me and flashing a toothy grin. "The name's Carl, and I don't wanna show off or anything, but I'm kinda like the Oficial Hero Coach Trademark of the Guardians of the Firmament. You could say that everything Falcon and Tormenta know is thanks to me. Some go even as far as to say I'm the toughest guy in all of Great Lakes City. If you want some private lessons, I'm sure I can make space in my calendar to entertAAAAH!"

Carl jumped and let out a, let's say, not precisely masculine yelp. He immediately turned to look behind him, where a tiny cloud the size of a baseball hovered in the air, letting out small currents of electricity.

"Tormenta!" He complained, blushing and looking angrily at his cousin.

The young hero stopped twirling her left hand, and the cloud dispersed into steam.

"Mija, don't prank your cousin like that," Rosa asked, sounding disappointed.

"What, a little spark is too much for the toughest guy in Great Lakes City?" Carlota asked, raising an eyebrow and giving him a mischievous smile.

"Nothing is too much for me!"

"Except the fridge," CJ pointed out. "It's too high for you and you need us to help you get a glass of milk."

"CJ! DON'T SAY THAT STUFF IN FRONT OF THE NEW GIRL!"

Just like domino pieces falling one after the other, the rest of the family jumped into the conversation. Some took sides, some tried to stop the discussion between cousins and siblings. Within a minute, ten voices were all mixed up on a single cacophony that, underneath a superficial layer of discussion, showed just how deep their love for each other was.

I felt rather uncomfortable in the sense that I was afraid of invading their privacy, but above everything else, a strange feeling of nostalgia took over my heart. A longing for a full family, for the one that had been taken away from me years ago and that I'd never get back. Seeing parents, siblings, cousins, and grandparents all together reminded me how terribly alone Leni and I were at Royal Woods.

A hand on my shoulder took me out of my thoughts. Falcon was looking at me with embarrassment written all over his face.

"Uh, what do you think about going to the nursery in the meantime?" He suggested in a whisper, trying not to get his family's attention.

I nodded, and without anyone noticing, we sneaked to the back of the floor, which I could now fully appreciate. I was no architect and no structural engineer, but it seemed like all the original walls had been removed, leaving only the concrete columns and metal beams, which turned the entire floor into one open space that was only sorta divided by the furniture, making out small isles that acted like open offices and desks. There were many computers and all sorts of books and piles of papers. Even then, judging by certain key details, I was able to recognize some of the working stations and who they belonged to. Hector, the accountant, most likely worked at the desk where many calculators and piles of bills rested. Frida, the Image Consultant, probably worked at the small studio with the big lights aimed at a metal structure with a white infinite background.

We continued our journey until we reached some new main stairs and not just the pressurized emergency staircase we'd entered from.

The nursery is on the next floor. Or, uh, the previous one, I guess," he said as soon as we began descending. "Sorry about that. Like I said… a peculiar family."

"Oh, don't worry," I assured him. "It's alright. I can tell you're all super close."

"Yeah, of course," he smiled with his gaze lost in thought as we kept walking down the stairs. "Fighting villains, getting sponsors, giving out interviews on TV, gaining followers on social media… It's all good and all, but at the end of the day, family's all that matters."

He stopped in the middle of the stairs and turned to look at me.

"Or, well, at least that's what I think," he said, scratching his chin. "What do you think?"

"You're right, Falcon. Family is… everything."

I breathed in and, without looking at him, I continued to walk down the stairs. I tried to present myself with a serious and serene demeanor, trying my best not to show the emotional wounds that one may think has gotten over, but that never fully heal.

El Falcon seemed to realize he'd perhaps touched a delicate subject, so he walked down in silence for several steps. We reached a new door, but he stopped before opening it, and after several moments of silence, he turned to me.

I stared at him, slightly confused, and then positively stunned as he proceeded to remove his helmet, and right away, the mask that covered his eyes and the upper part of his face. He used his right hand to ruffle his dark hair and comb it as best as possible, and then shyly smiled at me.

"You don't have to do this; trust me, I know how important secret identities are for many heroes. But you met my family already, with full names and all, and you know where our agency is, so I guess… I mean, it's not like it's all super-secret, right? We have a building with our flag, and… Uh… What I'm trying to say is…"

He bit his lip and sighed. He then turned to me and looked me in the eye, letting me see how deep his own were.

"You don't have to call me Falcon. You can call me Bobby."

My legs were shaking, begging me to activate my powers and fly away from there.

Had a hero just revealed his secret identity? To me? A total stranger? How could he put me in such an uncomfortable situation? Maybe heroes in the city didn't have to deal with the problems we had back at Royal Woods. Of course, they didn't, they got to live their lives as heroes and public figures without fearing a curse that caused them to die or disappear forever. I couldn't have such luxury, I couldn't let my secret identity slip in any way, shape, or form, no matter what. Much less with someone like him, who no matter how kind and charismatic he looked, I still didn't know him. At all. He seemed like a good person, but I couldn't lower my guard. Never. That had always been Spade's first and most important lesson.

I looked away, and Falcon noticed it.

"As I've said, I'm not asking you to give me your name," he repeated. "I just… I don't know, I thought I could say it to you. You seem trustworthy."

"I… I'm sorry. I have my reasons to keep my secret identity as… well, secret as possible."

"I get it. Sorry for making you uncomfortable," he apologized, sounding disappointed in himself. "Though, if it makes you feel better, I also needed to get the helmet off cause I have a nasty bump in my head that was killing me."

He pointed at the top of his head where, indeed, a very painful-looking bump protruded.

"Ouch."

"Yeah. So what do you say about waiting for my mom at the nursery? It's gonna take them like ten minutes to figure out we're gone."

Whatever it took to get out of that uncomfortable moment.

"Sure. Sounds nice."

The plan was simple. Survive five minutes along with Falcon, get some first aid, and then continue with my mission to get an insurance company. It was an extremely simple plan that left no room for distractions.

Or so I thought.

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N/A: Sergio the parrot doesn't exist in this universe. I hate him so I won't consider him a character.