"So I have to ask..."

"No, unlike you, I'm not a Parahuman."

"Oh."

Huh, and here I thought I'm the psychic... am I really that obvious?

I don't need powers to tell how... high strung my younger companion is currently; anyone looking at her will be able to tell that she's tense from a glance alone.

Can't blame her, I did killed three people right in front of her not even thirty minutes ago.

Yeah... still don't know how I should feel about that, let's come back to that later.

"So..." I begin with awkwardness that shouldn't be coming from a man my age, especially when I'm directing it to a girl much younger than myself, "where to next?"

"Nowhere in particular," Lucy replies almost snappingly, her tone quick and stiff, "we shouldn't head home straight away after doing it, let's walk around town for a bit."

Huh, smart.

She's speaking in codes, obviously. We just dumped the three bodies of the Empire thugs I killed in a dumping spot Lucy suggested herself.

I was in favor of just throwing them at sea and let them sleep with the fishes, but she insisted we do it this way.

Hey, I trust her. She both looks and sounds like she knows what she's doing, age be damned, I'll defer to her judgement when it comes to something like this.

The both of us had to be quick with hiding the bodies, having to wrap them in large trashbags and truss them up to make disposing them easier.

Thankfully, psychic powers made quick work of all that. We also took great care to stick to quieter streets, prefering dark alleyways and going through empty construction sites. It also helps that Lucy knows her way around the area, even more than I do.

Dressed in a hoodie jacket, Lucy also wears a non-descript baseball cap over her hair. Meanwhile, I'm wearing a plain white shirt and a pair of jeans. I forego any outer layer, because I no longer feel the effect the weather will normally have on me thanks to my powers.

"In that case... do you mind if we stop by somewhere for a while?" My question draws upon her confusion, causing me to placate the worry I'm sensing is growing from her. "It's got to do with my co-worker who was there with me when those thugs happened, Joe."

"He saw you use your powers?"

"Yup. Got front row seats and all." Immediately, I can see her attitude change.

"What are you planning to do with him?" Lucy asks, her voice hushed, sticking close to me as we walk. "You're not gonna... you know..."

"No, god no." I shake my head quickly. "I just need to check up on him and tell him I won't be working at Fugly Bob's anymore."

"Huh. Can't you do that over the phone?" Lucy asks, to which I shake my head.

"Normally I'd go phone my supervisor directly, but it'd be suspicious if I just call him in an ungodly hour of the morning and the security cameras are all dead over at the place I just quit."

"So to avoid that you're going to ask your friend to quit for you?" Oh don't give me that look, you're beginning to remind me of a certain latino track star.

"I know it sounds convoluted, but if I get Joe to tell Terry – that's my manager – I quit, it'll set up a buffer for the suspicion."

I just hope that Terry doesn't start suspecting the poor kid of being the one who messed with the cameras, I hope he doesn't start suspecting anything at all.

"Okay..." Lucy says that, but I'm still not sure if she's onboard with my idea. "You know where he lives? It's, like, three in the morning so your friend's probably already asleep..."

Hm, that's a great question Lucy, let's try something shall we?

I've mentioned that my powers are, as far as I'm aware, tied to my emotion. This has been proved to me in more than one instances.

When I wanted to improve my physical abilities, I managed to use my powers to enhance my physical abilities via manipulating the way my muscles work and all that.

When working out no longer – pun not intended – worked out, I used my powers to give the clothes I wear a stronger gravitational force so I could use them as training weights.

When I needed to move things without the use of my limbs, my psychic powers manifested the ability to telekinetically manipulate the things around me... including people.

With that last one, especially, I've got at least two instances where my powers have 'responded' to a specific emotion; anger.

Yes, believe it or not, people get angry when they're confronted with threats to their lives.

My telekinesis wasn't born out of anger or anything like that initially, I had just wanted to experiment moving things without touching them.

But the moment an emotion like anger was used in concert with it is when, I found out, it worked easily than any other attempts before it.

Breaking the legs of that punk girl was much easier than moving those pumpkins into one neat stack, and crushing the neck of those three nazis was much easier than doing those two things combined.

Where am I going with this?

All I'm saying is that I've come to the conclusion that it isn't only the emotion I'm feeling that allows me to better utilize my powers, but rather it's the desire behind it that truly allows it to manifest in the first place.

TL;DR, my powers will most likely respond to my desire and then manifest a specific way for me to utilize it.

"Uh, Jack, you there?" The concern in Lucy's voice manages to snap me from my thoughts. "Do you know where your friend live?"

"Oh, uh, sorry for dozing off." I apologize, brushing her worry, "and, uh... no, not exactly."

"What do you mean?" Lucy asks, confused. "How are you going to talk to him if you don't know where he lives?"

"Don't worry, I just might have the thing..."

Okay, so, here goes nothing.

Closing my eyes, I slow down to a stop, carefully positioning myself so as to not obstruct the sidewalk.

I want to find someone. A person. A co-worker.

This person is a human. Male. Young. He is of African-American descent.

He lives in Brockton Bay, probably nearby.

His name is Joe Hall.

PING

My senses expand, covering entire streets, roads, buildings, blocks, before eventually dispersing.

It's not so much different from creating a psychic barrier, only this time it's spreading across a much greater range and I'm actively searching for one specific thing; or person in this case.

But unlike creating a psychic barrier, it doesn't last for very long, only until I've found what I'm searching for. That's fine.

I open my eyes, a smile slowly forming on my face.

"Hello, you alright?" Lucy waves a hand right in front of my eyes, trying to get my attention.

"I'm okay, sheesh, don't be impatent." I shrug off her gesture, rolling my shoulders forward.

"So," Lucy begins with her arms crossed, "what's all that about, huh?"

"My powers." I say in a low tone. "I just used it to find where Joe is."

Upon hearing that, Lucy's eyes grow wide and I can tell she's doing everything she can not to gape like a fish out of water.

I hope I don't get used to getting this kind of reaction out of people though. Why, one might ask?

Well, if that's the case, then that'll mean more people will know I'm a Parahuman.

I must say, though, I do enjoy the reaction I'm currently getting.


It's now later in the morning and I, luckily, managed to check in on Joe.

As expected he's still shaken up, but he promised me that he won't blab about what happened at the workplace.

I also took extra precautions and laid out instructions on what to do if management starts suspecting him.

I won't go into details, but it involves him just straight up denying everything they throw at him.

Contrary to popular belief, you can't just accuse someone of doing something without evidence. I mean you can do that, but then it won't look good in court when you can't back it up.

If they say Joe's the one who messed with the cameras? Good luck finding any footage showing any of that. As far as they're concerned, the cameras just shut off with their cables cut.

And, here's the kicker, they're not even going to bother assuming Joe, or me for that matter, is a Parahuman. That's because once anything Parahuman related happens, the PRT gets brought in.

Trust me, that's not something a business like Fugly Bob's wants to deal with.

So, if things go smoothly, they're just gonna act like it's a freak accident, they'll take my resignation from Joe as something official, and go back to their usual operations because a corporation can't be bothered to waste money to investigate shit.

That's what I'm hoping, at least.

Who knows, all of this might just come and bite me in the ass some time later in the future, but I'll let future me deal with that.

At the very least, it brings me great comfort to know that Joe will keep the knowledge of my powers to himself. Not only because he's a stand up guy for doing it, it's also because of something called the Unwritten Rules.

Yeah... I've... somehow missed that important part of Parahuman life despite the amount of reading I've done.

"So, this... heist you're looking to do, what's the potential payout?"

For once, it is I who's intruding on someone else's home. I'm not sure if it counts, though, since Lucy's apartment is basically identical to mine with the exception of a few things like decor and furniture.

I sit myself on a beanbag chair that has no problem supporting my weight, even if it looks like it's about to swallow me whole.

The windows are all covered with blinds, letting no natural light in and there are also LED strips posted on the walls, taking the role of the room's primary light source.

"Let's not call it a heist, it's nothing as corny as that."

While I can do with a little bit more fresh air and sunlight, Lucy is pretty much unbothered being cooped up in this LED lit haven of a room.

She is currently focusing her attention at her computer, her fingers hitting against the key-caps making clicking and clacking noise that some might even consider ASMR worthy.

I can't see what she's doing specifically, but I'm sure it's related to whatever it is she needs my help doing.

"We're going to rob the Empire of, at the very least, five million dollars worth of assets."

Okay, not going to lie, that's indeed a lot of money. However, I notice the choise of word used.

"And what are these 'assets', exactly?" I ask while subconsciously activating my psychic barrier to survey the surrounding area. Can't be too careful.

"It varies," Lucy admits, "but cash money gathered from any prostitution rings, dog-fighting rings, protection rackets, and smuggling rings will be the vast majority of it."

She takes a moment to turn around, addressing me with a cool look.

"So you don't have to worry about having nothing to show up at the end of all of this," she says, reassuring me, "you'll get more than your fair share."

"That's good and all," I begin, while scratching the back of my head, "but I can't see the practicality of having five million dollars in cash."

Does the name Pablo Escobar not mean anything in this world? What about Narcos? Oh, wait, Netflix isn't even a thing here. Oh well.

"True, but we can get accounts made for us." A resounding click can be heard echoing the room. "It's quite common actually. A lot of Capes – mostly Villains and Rogues – don't have the means to make money officially, so they developed a workaround by opening an account with a Cape known as The Number Man."

"Whoa, are you serious?"

"Yeah, why would I joke about this?"

She'll have to excuse my surprise, then. I've gotten used to the whole cops and robbers facade that most Capes are doing that I forget that, despite everything else, these people are stilll... people.

As in, they still need to get the bag. Make dough. Or whatever

"So, about most Capes not having the means to make money officially, what do you mean by that exactly?" I find myself asking Lucy.

"There's this bill called the NEPEA-5 bill which strictly limits Parahumans from, essentially, making a living out of using their powers that was passed back in the ninties." Lucy begins. "Rumor says that it's originally proposed to directly target and oppose an organization managed by Capes, but people mostly associate it with protecting the job market for regular people."

That... makes sense, actually. Wow.

But, I guess, I can picture how... 'unfair' it will be to the non-powered population if they have to contest with Parahumans.

"Still, it doesn't mean they can't have a job, right?" I ask.

"True, but pretty much every business-minded Parahumans see it as the government screwing them over." Lucy continues while typing. "They can't use their powers freely to make money as a result of this bill being passed."

"I get the Villains being upset, even the Rogues, but I can't imagine the Heroes doing any worse than anyone else." I audibly wonder.

"Hm, I can see why you'd think that." Lucy chuckles, though not mockingly. "A state sponsored and recognized Hero will still have to go through the legal hurdles that comes with it, but not as much as someone who plans on being a Hero independently. There's not a lot of Superhero teams that isn't PRT backed simply because it's almost impossible to make good living doing it; it's just not possible if money's the focus."

Again, makes sense. One might argue that Heroes should be doing what they do without expecting anything in return, otherwise it's not genuine.

Yeah, I can see why most Capes here are Rogues if not straight up Villains.

This reinforces my initial opinion about the PRT having a monopoly on everything 'heroic' simply because they have the means to pay these actors comfortably.

"Speaking of the PRT, just expect them to gatekeep the hero label since everyone that isn't them is a Villain." Lucy says, almost warningly.

And, there you go, straight out of someone else's mouth for once.

"Listen," Lucy turns around, this time she's properly looking at me, prompting me to sit up straight, "I get the feeling that you're very much against people associating you to being a Parahuman, but if we are going to do this, there's no escaping being a Cape."

I fail to suppress the frown from forming on my face, something Lucy notices.

"I'll admit," I start slowly, "I'm beginning to have second thoughts about all of this."

Lucy immediately tenses. I can understand why she'd feel that way. I can still, technically, walk away from all of this.

We haven't done anything too serious yet, aside from killing and disposing those three thugs, to be considered too far gone.

The Empire is still in the dark about who's responsible for hurting one of their own, but I doubt it'll stay that way for long, especially with the death of three more.

To Lucy, she has everything to lose here. She already risks a lot admitting that she's – technically – a part of the Empire.

"I really don't like this game of cops and robbers that society has gotten used to," I raise a hand, sensing that Lucy's about to cut me off, "and it's not because I think I'm morally superior or anything like that."

She backs down after my clarification.

"I just don't like the attention that kind of life brings; secret identities be damned." I say, stressing the last point. "I don't want to feel like I'm obligated to act a certain way just because society labels me for being on team blue instead of team red or vice versa."

I'm sure Lucy can relate to what I'm saying, but I'm not done talking yet.

"I appreciate you helping me with the bodies, but I need to make it clear that I'm not going to be your attack dog that you can just... sic at anyone." I try to sound as neutral as possible, making my voice non-threatening. "How I use my powers and when I use them should only be my concern and mine alone."

Lucy... stays still. She is, no doubt, digesting what I've said. I can't say I know what's going on in her head specifically, but I can guess that she has to rethink of a few things.

"Alright," she finally says, much to my relief, "but you'll still help me, right? I-I can't do this by myself, at least not if I want it to go as smooth as possible."

I can sense her heart beating faster and the clenching of muscles from her. Remember, I tell myself, she's afraid.

"Yeah, I'll help you." Only then I allow myself to grin. "Can't say I don't find the thought of having two and half mill' in the bank attractive."

She snorts, a small smile slowly forming on her face. I can feel her muscle unclenching and her heart-beat steadying.

She turns back to the computer, but this time, she gestures for me to come over.

"Okay, look here," I walk over to her, peeking over head to look at the computer screen, "I've gathered information about people who I think are important enough to get us what we want."

She shows me a browser window with chat history, several of them to be more specific. I glaze through the messages, just taking in the gist of everything.

Seems to be from a private chatroom, judging by the lack of online handle or username. Isn't Lucy concerned about that? Hm, I'll have to trust that she knows what she's doing.

One thing stands out to me, though. The people she's been chatting with? They're all men's name.

"These are the only people I think are useful," Lucy tells me, "they're not very high up in the pecking order, but they should get us to what we want."

"How do you suppose we get them to do that?" I ask the tech savvy teenager.

"Two ways." She says. "One way will be blackmail. Fortunately for us, that wouldn't be too hard to do."

Her tone dips down, and I'm sensing her body tensing all of a sudden.

"I've..." she begins with great difficulty, "...managed to get close to them as a way to dig up dirt about them. I'm... not proud of what I've done to get them."

"..."

Sheesh, poor kid.

"You sure they'll crack from having their dirty laundry aired out?" I turn to look at her.

"From what some of them have been doing behind Empire leadership's back? Definitely." Lucy says coldly, to a point where it gets me blinking.

"And the other way?" I say, trying to steer the mood elsewhere by picking up the conversation.

"It'll involve you." I pick up the grim in Lucy's voice.

"Me and my powers, you mean?"

"...yes." She says, looking away.

I think I can guess what she's suggesting. Good old fashioned grab and bag.

"Well, it shouldn't be too hard to find where they are, seeing as you know these people..." I trail off. "Grabbing them from whatever despot they're holed up will be the hard part, though."

"Shouldn't be too hard for a Parahuman," Lucy says, shrugging her shoulders. "Like I said, they're not very high up in the pecking order, so you're not going to be seeing them around Capes. You'll have to deal with other thugs at most."

"Can't be too careful." I say with a grimace.

"True."

We let silence take over the room, the both of us thinking our respective thoughts.

While the thought of not having to deal with Empire Capes is reassuring, something's telling me that I shouldn't count that scenario out of the picture just yet.

Murphy's Law and all that.

"Alright, we'll go with the second option, no point beating around the bush wondering they'll fold to blackmail at this point." I break the silence, drawing Lucy's focus, "Empire's bound to learn about the three bodies we hid, anyway. Hopefully, this will make your 'friends' jumpy."

"They'll be very careful with just about anything now though," Lucy points out.

"They'll be careful, but afraid." I say back to her.

"So this is it then, you're gonna debut as a Cape?" Lucy asks me, her eyes reflecting seriousness.

I shake my head.

"No. Not a Cape." I tell her, much to her visible confusion.

Power thrums from within me, a sensation that I can feel coursing throughout my very being.

I can feel it growing, and I can feel that growth quick. My mind is filling with ideas on how to better use my powers, ideas that I can't wait to explore on my own.

"An Esper, Lucy," I tell her, "I am an Esper."


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