The door frame rocked, sending another jolt through his chest.

"Focus. Just have to focus," he babbled. "I can focus I focus all the time focus is easy focus focus…"

His hands put the pieces together frantically.

"Please don't blow up. Blowing is bad, very bad. Bad."

Normally he'd test each part individually, and meticulously, to ensure they wouldn't explode in his face…but exploding in faces seemed like not so bad an idea at the moment.

So, he kept fitting the parts.

Almost.

A few more.

The power core slides into the round hole. The quadratic amp into the square hole. Video projector to the triangular slots.

The door shook again, and this time shattered.

The bestial figure clawed its way into the lab, bones, blades, and spikes hanging from what pieces of clothing he could make out. It looked like a dog, sort of. If dogs could be really ugly, extremely angry, and talk.

"Building something little lamb?"

Leet dove to the side, the table shattering behind him. His parts and tools scattered around the room, and he quickly started grabbing.

"Little lamb?" Leet asked. He crawled over to the wall, his fingers wrapping around a coil and a capacitor. "Overdoing the whole Hannibal bit, aren't you?"

"I prefer big bad wolf," the beast cackled as it clambered up the wall and leered at him.

"How many times do we have to tell you not to play with your food?"

A man entered, an older man with hair starting to gray. Leet tried to remember which one he might be, but honestly all the teeth looked the same with the full-on Chaos spiky bits deal.

The man swept his eyes over the room, and then looked at Leet.

"I suppose you've run out of places to run."

"I prefer tactical retreat." Leet turned and lifted the device, an orb slightly smaller than a basketball. "Want to find out what this does?"

The man flinched, and the beast lunged.

Leet threw the orb as hard as he could, which…not very hard. It traveled a few feet and exploded.

The lights started flashing.

The music started pumping.

The wolf hit the ground hard, while the older man started to rock his hips and pump it.

"What?!"

"Hells yeah!" Leet threw his hands into the air. "Suck it! They said it couldn't be done but I did it!"

The dog creature thing rose to its feet and started swaying back and forth. The music picked up, and the voice went, "It's electric!"

Leet couldn't hold back his laughter. He actually started crying. Years and years spent on the damn thing, and all he needed to finally get the Groovitron to work was the Teeth battering down his door.

"And Uber said no, don't go to Boston! There's Teeth there. And Accord. And Blasto. Let's go to Providence. Nothing bad ever happens in Providence! Pft. Blasto. Who is scared of Blasto?"

Leet strolled forward, the music precisely tuned so as not to affect him. He didn't get that at all, but gift horses and mouths.

Probably because he rarely did anything with sound, getting that part working right came easily. He heard the music just fine, but in the moment, what did it matter? Animos and the old guy were both busy dancing to the command of the Electric Slide, and couldn't touch him.

Animos even started humming to the beat.

"Now where did I put that camera?"

The old guy managed to turn his head as he gave two hops. "You little—"

"Sorry can't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am!"

Leet checked the cupboards, and a few drawers. "Not here." He scavenged the floor but he didn't remember leaving the camera on his workbench. "Damn."

No camera.

"Fuck. This video would be golden."

Oh well.

Leet gathered up some of his tools and stuffed them into a bag. Starting over again sucked, but he couldn't feel down about it with the Groovitron being such a massive success.

Shame he'd never get to build one again. Damn power. Maybe they'd leave it behind whenever it wore off and he could sneak back in and grab it?

"Welp, spilled milk and broken eggs." Leet turned to the two Teeth with a triumphant smile. "I hope you two enjoy this wonderful work out. It'll probably stop working…eventually. I don't know. Someone will come along and get you out. Adieu!"

Leet walked casually through the busted doorway with a proud strut.

Damn Teeth.

He picked a nice abandoned building way on the outskirts of the city. Safe. Quiet. No one even knew they were there. And then Teacher had to go and make a big fuss, the prick. Ruined everything. Leet couldn't even get an ice cream without some undercover PRT spooks showing up at some point.

"Yo Mitch! Where you at?"

Leet bounded down the stairs and turned toward the game room. Last he saw Mitch was having a good round of Halo Reach–damn Halo 2 was so much better—and—

"Mitch?"

The bag hit the floor and Leet stumbled forward.

"Hey, Mitch. Stop fucking around man we gotta"—he pulled his hand away, the blood staining his palm—"go..."

He lost track of how long he sat there in his friend's blood. Not entirely sure when he started building something either.

At least thirty minutes later, Leet pushed a hat down atop his head and pulled a hood up over it. Everyone on the street screamed and ran when the smoke and fire billowed. The thunder crash tore the old brick building apart and vaporized half of it when a second blast followed.

Sirens filled the air, police vehicles and fire trucks driving past. His PRT tail tried to follow him, but they weren't as good as they thought. Leet lost them in a crowded mall a block over. He switched hat and hoodie, traded his backpack with some bum, and started walking.

And then he just kept walking. And walking. And walking.

Eventually he got tired of walking and found some late-night diner to sit in.

The television caught his eye, and he waved down the waitress.

"Could you turn that up?"

She glanced back over her shoulder. "Um. Yeah. One sec."

"More news out of Brockton Bay this morning."

"Been getting a lot of that lately Jan."

"Yes, well the latest hero to emerge from the city either enjoys the spotlight or simply likes making a splash. Newtype raided the city's rather potent criminal element again just a few hours ago, but it seems this time she had help."

The screen changed, showing a picture of Stratos talking to a girl in a pink and black costume. A small robot hovered in the air beside her, holding a phone out that Stratos leaned in to look at.

Must have been funny, because they were both laughing.

"Laughter, a small-time vigilante who was caught up in the recent data leak of cape identities, accompanied the young tinker in her latest battle on crime."

"Is Newtype forming a larger team?"

"If she is no one involved is saying anything, Bobby."

The image changed, showing the suit Newtype built flying through the air on a trail of green light.

"Since she rose to prominence a few weeks ago in an advanced tinkertech suit, Newtype has taken the PHO forums by storm, rapidly rising in Brockton Bay's popularity polls and massing three iterations of her personal thread amounting to over forty thousand replies."

"Girl needs a PR team."

"Well some heroes care less for it than others, Bobby, but one thing's for sure. Newtype is a breath of fresh air in a city that's needed it for a long time."

The waitress came back, asking, "You okay, honey?"

Leet watched the screen, hands hidden under the table.

"Just fine."