Craving recognition for his exploits as Prodigious Girl, Chris makes a terrible blunder that unknowingly draws both him and his young cousin into a deadly trap set by the body swapping villain!

Identity Crisis: Adventures in Babysitting

By Jenny North

I was late getting home that evening. As usual, I took the bus home, but traffic was delayed on account of a supervillain fight somewhere downtown. Fortunately, the Faraday City police had responded, and nobody seemed to be hurt, but one of the downsides of public transportation was that it was a little tricky to excuse myself to lend a hand without attracting a lot of attention. For a while, I'd actually flown back and forth to work as Prodigious Girl until Prodigy berated me for taking unnecessary chances simply to shave a few extra minutes off my commute. I wondered how many other secret superheroes were watching the fight while stuck in traffic.

I fully appreciated that sitting there dressed as a girl, I was the poster child for the stupidity of what you had to go through to maintain a secret identity. Although the whole "protect those you care about from reprisals" was a pretty solid selling point. As was not having to come clean to my parents about what I was doing, especially given their feelings about superheroes. Although lately, I'd come to feel like having two identities was just an opportunity to fail twice.

As Chris, I spent my days at work as a crossdressed errand girl. And as Prodigious Girl, I wasn't exactly on a hot streak, either. My two identities were increasingly getting in the way of each other. If it wasn't for maintaining my cover as Chris, I wouldn't be taking the bus, and I could have swooped in to help with that fight. Meanwhile, as I girlishly crossed my legs and discreetly tugged down on my short skirt, it was obvious that PG wasn't doing Chris's social life any favors.

I pulled out my phone and opened Leah Paredes' contact info and stared at it. Dating someone was a stupid risk, I knew that. This would just be someone new to have to hide my superheroics from. Still, Leah liked me even despite the fact that I was running around as a girl. She didn't have to do that.

I caught a bit of motion in the sky and my eyes flicked upwards to see a superheroine I thought I recognized racing towards the fight. I wondered what she was sacrificing to be there. Then I thought back to Marty's conversation with Fidget Spinner on the roof at AGON today, and how she wasn't able to find a balance.

My fingers sped over my phone's screen and I messaged Leah before I could think about it.

ChrisP_Critter: hey hows it going?

I stared at the screen. She might not answer. She's probably busy. I doubt she even remembers m—

UnbLeahvable: hey stranger :)
UnbLeahvable: sup?

Holy shit. Holyshitholyshitholyshit. Okay, dude, you're a superhero. You fight supervillains, you can handle this. Play it cool.

ChrisP_Critter: just sittin on a bus, u?

Or I could play it stupid. Good plan.

UnbLeahvable: thrilling :)
UnbLeahvable: u get a summer job?
ChrisP_Critter: yeah, internship
ChrisP_Critter: boring admin stuff
ChrisP_Critter: not saving the world :)

Sheesh, why don't I just write, "Totally not a superheroine named Prodigious Girl, LOL!" Good God, I sucked at this.

UnbLeahvable: well, not 2 brag but
UnbLeahvable: Im folding blouses like a boss
ChrisP_Critter: rofl

I winced after I typed it. At least I'd omitted the two exclamation points that Marty had programmed into his non-AI computer substitute for me.

UnbLeahvable: u still girly?

Whoa, she just went there. I wasn't ready for that. Which was kind of ironic considering that to read her message, I practically had to crane my neck to peer past my prodigiously oversized falsies. Still, it was a fair question, considering that the last time she'd seen me, I was splitting my time between Chris and Christie. I guessed there was no point in avoiding it.

ChrisP_Critter: yeah
ChrisP_Critter: out and about

"Out and about?" Where the hell did that come from? I sounded like my grandmother.

UnbLeahvable: cool cool

I wasn't quite sure how to read that. I guess that was good?

I took a breath. Okay, time to make a move.

ChrisP_Critter: you free this wkend?
ChrisP_Critter: just to hang
ChrisP_Critter: wherever
ChrisP_Critter: no big
ChrisP_Critter: just curious

For the love of God, stop typing, you idiot! Amazing. They say smells can't travel across the Internet, but in less than 60 characters I'd invented a way to transmit the scent of desperation across wireless devices.

My wait for her response was interminable.

UnbLeahvable: sorry I gotta work :(
UnbLeahvable: next time!

I stared at the screen for the longest time, trying not to feel as dejected as I did. That sounded an awful lot like, "Thanks, but no thanks."

ChrisP_Critter: no worries
ChrisP_Critter: bus is at my stop, gotta go
ChrisP_Critter: chat later
UnbLeahvable: fo sho

Great, now I'm lying about my bus arriving just to invent a reason to disengage. Coward. I stared at the messages for a long moment. Then I felt a nudge in my chest as a creepy guy sat down next to me and "accidentally" bumped against one of my big falsies with his arm.

Ugh.

I put my phone back in my purse and shrunk back in my seat as we all patiently waited for someone else to save the day.

I got home in time for dinner, but as I walked in the front door, I saw my mom retrieving a pair of overnight bags from a closet.

"Are you going somewhere?" I asked.

My mom looked like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Oh, sorry, we forgot to mention. It's just for Saturday and Sunday. It's a conference related to my grant proposal, but since it's down in Atlantic City, I convinced your dad to come along with me so we could spend the weekend together."

"Oh," I said neutrally. "Cool."

This would normally have been great news. With both Prodigy and my parents out of my hair for a couple days, I was free to do some serious superheroing with nobody looking over my shoulder for a change. Although after having just been shot down by Leah, I was still kind of smarting about suddenly not having any weekend plans myself.

However, Mom's attitude about the whole thing was weird. She seemed almost nervous to see me.

"Dinner's read—oh, hey, Chris," my dad said as he walked in from the kitchen. "I wondered if that might have been you."

"Yes, father, it is I," I responded in a deliberately stilted fashion, mocking the peculiar way they were acting around me. I was about ready to start looking for the pods that these impostors had hatched from. I eyed them suspiciously. "What's going on?"

The two of them shared another odd look, and my mom sidled up next to my dad. "Chris—" she began, "—your father has a favor to ask you." Before he could react, she clapped him on the shoulder and retreated into the kitchen. "I got her all warmed up for you!"

People sometimes wonder where I get my attitude from. They clearly never met my parents.

My dad was an Assistant District Attorney for Faraday City, so he was a man who was seldom at a loss for words. However, after I'd started running around as a girl, it definitely threw him. It's not that he was awkward around me exactly, but just a little perplexed by my sudden transgender inclinations. I imagined it to be sort of like the well-meaning but confused attitude of a magpie whose egg hatches to discover that it had been replaced by a cuckoo's egg, but then gamely goes along with taking care of the baby bird, even though it's not quite what was expected.

He gestured for me to sit down on the couch, and then took a seat on the chair across from me. I have to admit, it did feel a bit like I was about to be deposed.

"Chris, your mother mentioned we'd be out of town for a couple days."

I smiled. "Dad, if you're worried about me throwing a party or something—"

"No, no," he said. Though he had an uncertain expression on his face as he looked at me, likely wondering what the demographics of such a party might consist of. "That's not it."

He cleared his throat. "Your Uncle Jack and Aunt Jessica..." he began, "...need a favor."

"From...me?" I said. Honestly, you could have knocked me over with a feather. Uncle Jack was my dad's brother, and the last time we'd all gotten together it went badly, mostly because of me. It was pretty obvious that my aunt and uncle didn't much care for my apparently transgender inclinations, and it had caused a lot of friction.

He nodded. "Your cousin Tommy is going to the state finals for his karate tournament this weekend, and your aunt and uncle are going to cheer him on. But they didn't want Lydia around all that fighting. They asked us to watch her, but of course we're going to be out of town. So..." He let the sentence hang.

"You volunteered me to babysit her all weekend?" I asked, incredulous. "And Uncle Jack and Aunt Jessica are okay with this?"

"They're...not enthused..." my dad said.

My mom, who'd obviously been listening in on this whole conversation, stepped in from the kitchen. "Chris, you can say no—"

"Okay. No."

"—but, it might help mend some fences," she hurriedly added, as she looked over at my father. "Lydia knows you, and they've apparently exhausted their other options—"

My dad snorted. "That's putting it mildly."

My mom came and sat down next to me on the couch. "Chris, your dad and I would never want to put you in an awkward position. And we know how responsible you are. But the fact that they trust you to take care of her is kind of a big deal. They would definitely owe you one after this."

I looked at them for a long moment, then sighed and closed my eyes. "How many are you gonna owe me?" I asked.

My mom laughed and gave me a big hug. Meanwhile, my dad said, "I'll call and let them know." The phone was already in his hand.

Oh, what the hell. It wasn't like I had better plans, anyway.

One minor factoid that my parents had neglected to mention during their pitch was that my aunt and uncle had stipulated that I stay over at their house while watching Lydia. So, after dinner, my mom sent me upstairs to pack an overnight bag. At first I wondered what the big deal was, but then I realized that it was my first overnight trip as a girl. As a guy, this would normally have consisted of grabbing shorts, a t-shirt, socks, and a change of underwear, but as a girl it felt more like I was packing up my entire room.

However, I was also nervous about this for an entirely different reason—my little cousin Lydia knew that I was a superhero, and a six-year-old with that kind of information was not something I was comfortable with.

As with so many things in my life, it had been my own damn fault. With little time to react or think about it, I'd reluctantly involved her in my superheroics while stopping an armed robbery in broad daylight. She hadn't actually seen me in costume or knew my hero name, but she'd seen me use my powers, up close and personal. I needed to nip that in the bud, somehow.

I threw myself onto my bed and my little dog Undie climbed up there with me.

"I guess you still need me, huh, boy?" I said mildly as I scratched behind his ear. I had to admit it was kind of nice to have someone in my corner who didn't mind if I was a guy or a girl.

As that thought crossed my mind, I grabbed my phone and opened up my messages, and I saw my exchange with Leah. For a moment I thought about messaging her again, but then I sighed and figured there was no use digging that hole any deeper for myself. Then I thought about messaging Caleb to let him know I'd be out this weekend, but I decided it could wait.

I was feeling kind of down on myself, so I figured I'd do a vanity search of myself online...or rather that is to say, I looked up Prodigious Girl. Caleb had cautioned me strongly against checking what people were saying about me—or some of the artwork they'd drawn of me (eww!)—but I figured a quick peek on HeroTracker couldn't hurt. It was a social media site where people could track where they'd seen heroes and post comments. I figured it might be a little pick-me-up to read a few. I mean, heck, of the people posting comments there, I'd probably just saved the lives of a bunch of them. It couldn't be too bad.

I pulled up Prodigious Girl's entry, and noticed that just as Caleb had mentioned, my presence at the fight with Vagabond and Echelon had gone unnoticed, even though people had dutifully tagged Enchantrix and Euphoria, which was kind of bullshit. Heck, Euphoria even made me introduce myself to her stupid podcast.

Then I noticed that my lunchtime fight that I'd had with Frosty Joe wasn't tagged, either. Now that was weird. There were plenty of people around, and usually at least one bystander could be counted on to log the fight. Not that I was in any hurry to take credit for that debacle, but still.

Then as I skimmed through the log, I noticed something even stranger. People had tagged that they'd seen me flying around at various points around the city that I knew couldn't have been me. Was somebody impersonating me? Or maybe there was another superheroine who had a costume similar to mine? In fact, as I looked at the time stamps, most of them were squarely during work hours when I was running errands at AGON, which—

"Oh, you fucking prick!" I said aloud. Undie raised his head and looked at me in confusion like he wondered what he'd done.

Prodigy. It had to be. I knew that he'd hacked the superhero registration system, so it would have been nothing for him to hack HeroTracker. In his office today, he'd mentioned creating a program to help "cover" for me. He must have also developed a worm or something to eliminate or change the times I'd been spotted, and maybe even create some false sightings to throw people off the trail.

I was furious. This was no big deal to him, since he was already rubbing elbows with the big heroes of the city. But people paid attention to stuff like this! No wonder I was feeling so unappreciated, people probably hardly even knew that I existed!

I threw my phone down on the bed, still fuming.

As I cooled down a little, I got why he probably thought it was a good idea. The two of us were vigilantes, and I was still wanted for questioning for my assault on Promethean, so some degree of discretion was probably smart. And throwing a few false positives during work hours to establish an alibi was a good idea. All the same...

Ugh. How the hell was I supposed to inspire people if they didn't even know me?

My phone beeped in a special tone that let me know that a message had been routed to it from my iComm, meaning it was a message for Prodigious Girl. It was almost certainly Prodigy wanting me to do something, so I picked it up, fully prepared to tear him a new one. Or at the very least complain that he hadn't even mentioned all this to me.

But the message wasn't from Prodigy.

It was...

I read it twice to make sure I'd read it correctly.

I made a decidedly girlish squeal of delight, and I grabbed Undie and gave him a big hug. Though once again, he looked around in startled bewilderment wondering what he'd done to warrant such a reaction.

Xenos was seated in the high-backed chair of his opulent study, and he groaned a little as he massaged an aching bicep. His ongoing crusade against the mages, wizards, and witches had been going well of late, and he'd managed to scratch more than a few off of his "hit list," but the war was beginning to take a toll again.

Beaumont's body had served him well, and his enhanced physiology as the vigilante Chimera had certainly proved useful. Nevertheless, it was time for a new mount. Thankfully, there were many enticing possibilities.

Xenos had encountered other body swappers during his long years. At one point, he'd even encountered spirits of the archetypical seven deadly sins who would possess the bodies of mortals. But they were all clumsy and arrogant. They flaunted their power with flagrant disregard of the consequences, thinking themselves invincible and untouchable. For a very long time, that was true.

Until humanity caught up with them.

Humans of the modern age had once been slow to believe in what they called the supernatural, and Xenos and his ilk had taken advantage of that skepticism. If a woman noticed her husband acting distant and strange, she was more inclined to believe he was having an affair than that a supernatural being had taken over his body.

The dawn of this new heroic age changed everything. Suddenly the impossible had become not only probable, but mundane.

Xenos's brethren had been unprepared. Some had believed that since metahumans were so public and flashy, they could afford to be, as well. They were caught or killed quickly.

Others of his kind had become enthralled at the possibility of inhabiting bodies with metahuman powers. Where once they would walk among humans and seek to commandeer a body that was young, strong, and wealthy, suddenly power—real power—became a tempting possibility.

Hopping into the body of an especially mighty metahuman like Promethean was a great temptation. Nevertheless, powerful men had both powerful allies and powerful enemies. People who would take notice. A sufficiently gifted sorcerer might be able to force a switch back to "put things right," sometimes banishing the interloping spirit into oblivion, or worse. Or a dangerous adversary might seize the opportunity to finish off the suddenly oddly-behaving hero who now lacked the prior experience to use their superpowers to their fullest potential and defend themselves properly.

Any body swappers who remained had been dealt with personally by Xenos. His primary crusade was against the magic users, but he knew from hard experience that other body swappers were frequently sloppy and drew too much attention. Attention he could ill afford. At one point, he'd nearly been caught when hunters were on the trail of another body swapper. Xenos quickly intervened to dispatch their prey and save them the trouble.

Xenos had come to suspect that he was the last of his kind, and that suited him just fine. He wouldn't be caught as easily as the others. He'd learned the wisdom of playing the long game. Rather than haphazardly jumping from person to person and leaving a trail of querulous victims behind him a mile wide, he instead took extended residence in a mount. He'd choose a man with whom he could get comfortable. Oh, he might indulge in a bit of light body swapping from time to time when it suited his purposes, but he would always come home to the body he'd chosen.

Regardless, it was nearly time to move on.

He looked at his data pad and opened up his list of potential targets. Powerful men, and even a few women. Xenos much preferred being a man, especially for his long-term "home body," but he'd been enough women over the years that when measured against the scales of eternity he could afford a bit of minor disinclination. And it had its compensations.

The risk, as ever, was getting caught. Being noticed. People of this caliber had friends, allies, and secrets. People who would notice a sudden change in behavior. He needed an edge.

However, he would soon have one. In the very near future, such concerns would be a thing of the past.

A low beep sounded from his computer, capturing his attention. He turned to read the message on the screen and smiled.

The stage was set, the trap was laid. Now, he simply needed to wait for the opportune moment to strike.

The next morning, I woke up in a delighted mood, eager to meet the day. I was up early, showered, dressed, and did my makeup in record time, so that I was already waiting for my parents when they emerged. Given my surly attitude towards this babysitting gig the night before, that caught them a bit by surprise, but since I'd made the coffee that morning, they weren't complaining.

"You sure you're okay with this?" my mom asked.

"Yep, yep, should be fun," I said. I then checked the time again. "You guys probably want to hit the road, right? Beat the traffic?"

"It's Saturday morning," my dad said.

"Good point, probably even more traffic with the weekenders. You guys ready to go?"

My befuddled parents and I piled into the car, and they gave me a ride over to my aunt and uncle's house. My parents had picked up on my unexpectedly good mood, but they clearly thought better than to press the point so long as I was willing to go along with this insanity.

The awkwardness at my aunt and uncle's began the moment we pulled in the driveway. My parents glanced at each other as my father parked the car, obviously calculating if it would be more difficult and uncomfortable for them to come in with me and say hi before leaving, or if it would be better to just drop me at the curb as they took off with their tires squealing. The latter option clearly had its charms, but they opted for the former.

My dad and his brother had always had a bit of an uneven relationship. Their politics were incompatible, and I got the impression that Uncle Jack was jealous of my dad's success. As a result, having me pop up as either their openly crossdressing son or their transgender daughter pretty much helped to push things past the tipping point.

It was a hot day, so when I'd gotten dressed that morning I'd opted to wear a pink t-shirt with a berry-colored magenta miniskirt, figuring that would be casual but sufficiently feminine as to not make waves. Or so I thought.

"You know what would be cute," my mom had said when she'd seen me, "is if you wore that one jacket you have."

I was just about to protest that I'd have to be crazy to wear a jacket in this heat when I'd read the look on her face. Translation: Those big falsies aren't going to win you any points with your aunt and uncle, so do what you can to minimize your bustline. Message received, Mom.

Not that it mattered. When we arrived for the most awkward greeting ever, my uncle didn't even make eye contact with me, and my aunt took one look at my chest and muttered something to herself that made me glad I didn't have super-hearing.

My parents excused themselves so quickly that they nearly left a pair of vapor trails. I can't say I was all that upset. They quickly realized that their presence was only exacerbating an already awkward situation. So, after a hug and a quiet "good luck," I was on my own. Meanwhile, I'd spotted my little cousin Lydia when we arrived, but she'd hidden behind her mother and then took off upstairs to her room like a flash before I could say anything.

My aunt then walked me through a health and safety briefing akin to what I expect you'd get if you were stationed in a nuclear missile silo.

I was informed that I would be staying in the guest bedroom ("and only the guest bedroom," though I wasn't quite sure what that was supposed to mean), then we ran through the lists that my Aunt Jessica had prepared. I won't bore you with the details, but suffice to say that it started off with not-unreasonable things like their cell numbers and emergency contact information, and the neighbors' numbers. However, I began to get a little suspicious when she included the actual phone numbers for both 911 ("911") and the operator ("0"). Her briefing then devolved into a level of panic that pretty clearly managed to communicate the message, "Oh my God, what have we done, we've invited her into our home unattended for nearly an entire weekend."

When I inquired about the Wi-Fi password, Aunt Jessica regarded me with a horrified expression. She looked at me as though I'd just politely inquired if it would be okay while they were gone if I could go rummaging through her closets and try on all of her clothes.

Fortunately, my cousin Tommy was a bit more forthcoming when I asked him. I'd wandered upstairs and found him in his bedroom packing a duffel bag.

"Hey, good luck at the tournament, that's really awesome," I volunteered, standing in the doorway. I glanced around at his room, feeling a little bit envious. Tommy had some of his trophies and martial arts stuff around the room, and he had more of an interest in horror movies than I did, but other than that, his room wasn't all that dissimilar from what mine used to look like. But once all of my girl's clothes had moved in along with my wig stand, makeup, jewelry box, vanity set and mirror, and other little accessories, it had taken on a decidedly different vibe. Even the normally unflappable Caleb seemed slightly taken aback the first time he'd seen my room after I was forced to "redecorate."

"It's not a big deal," Tommy said.

"I'm a little jealous. I never really went out for sports, so I never, uh..." My voice trailed off since I suddenly realized that the seemingly obvious reason was probably related to the fact that I was currently dressed as a girl. Tommy never seemed as freaked out by my change as his parents, but he obviously wasn't entirely comfortable with it, either.

"That is, I didn't—huh?" I said, feeling a tug on my skirt. I looked down to see Lydia looking up at me, wide-eyed.

"Hi," she said. "I need...um. You need to—"

Tommy interrupted her. "Quiet, Shrimp. Adults are talking," he sniped.

Lydia shrank back, and I whispered I'd drop by in a minute. She took off running down the hall and into her bedroom.

Tommy paused to look around the room. At first I thought he was trying to remember something he'd forgotten to pack, but I noticed that he had a more concerned expression.

"Everything okay?" I asked.

He looked over at one of his trophies. "This used to be fun, y'know? I mean, I like the competition and all, but things are nuts. Now it's all about winning. Bringing home the trophy, getting the ranking. I kinda miss when you and I would play around with RC cars out on the driveway." He glanced over at me, his eyes dwelling on my chest. "I guess you don't do that kind of stuff anymore, either."

"Less and less," I admitted. He turned to zip up his duffel bag, and I checked the time.

He slung the bag over his shoulder. "You got a hot date, or something?" he said with a smirk. Before I could say anything, he gave a little upwards nod towards my wrist. "You keep checking the time."

I gave him a nervous smile. "Me? No. Just want to make sure you guys get off in time, that's all."

Shortly, my aunt, uncle, and Tommy were heading out the door. Aunt Jessica called for Lydia to come down and say goodbye, but all she got was a perfunctory, "'Kay! Bye!" shout from upstairs. I got another dirty look as though somehow this was due to my bad influence, but they said nothing as they left.

I checked my watch again. "Okay, okay, okay," I whispered to myself. "Plenty of time."

Then I glanced up the stairs towards the bedrooms. Now, I only had to get Lydia on board with my little scheme, and we'd be off to the races.

"Lydia?" I said, knocking on the frame of her open door as I entered. "You in here?" I peered around, but at first glance, the room seemed empty.

"Yeah!" she called back. It took me a minute to realize that her voice had come from inside her closet, which was closed. As I recalled, it wasn't even a walk-in closet, it was a wardrobe with a bi-fold door. "Just a sec!"

"Um, okay. Look, Lydia, I need to talk to you about some stuff, okay?" It felt weird talking to a closed closet door. I leaned closer.

"Don't look!"

"Okay!" I said, spinning around. I took a few steps towards the window, and my gaze fell on the big plastic cage that was there. Lydia's pet chinchilla Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle was rustling around. The little critter had been dressed in an adorable white wedding dress with lace and sparkly stars, with an elegant crown on top that was decorated with white fabric flowers. The getup was precious, but she didn't seem to be very comfortable in it.

"I know exactly how you feel," I empathized as I wriggled to adjust one of my breast forms in the cup of my brassiere. Then I peered more closely at the chinchilla as I heard the closet door open behind me.

"Is there something wrong with her eye? It almost looks like she's winking at m—oh, my God," I said as I turned around to look at Lydia.

She was dressed as a superhero.

Or at least, as much as a little kid might reasonably attempt with clothes on hand. She was wearing a pink short-sleeved top along with a slightly mismatched darker pink skirt, which both had white trim. On her legs, she had baggy socks almost like legwarmers in a darker raspberry color. Tied around her neck was a small pink-and-white kerchief that barely went down her back, but I gathered was meant to simulate a cape. I had to admit that it was a straight-up adorable look, especially when combined with her brown hair that had been tied back in a pair of low pigtails that gave her a feisty appearance. I might have just assumed it was a cute outfit, except for the totally mismatched bright blue domino mask she wore over her eyes.

"Oh, Lord," I muttered. "Okay, Lydia, this is kind of what I wanted to talk to you about—"

"Wait, wait. Look, look, look," she insisted. She then struck a heroic pose where she turned slightly to the side with her chin up and her arms at her sides, looking like she was staring resolutely into the future.

Dang, that was actually pretty good.

"Listen, Lydia—"

"Ask me my name!" she said.

I wasn't sure if I should be encouraging this, but in light of what I had lined up for this afternoon, I supposed some of this was inevitable.

I sighed. "What's your name?"

"I'm—" she paused dramatically, "—Pretty Good Girl!"

You know, I'd actually heard worse.

"Get it? It's on account of I'm pretty, but also I'm good," she explained. Then she furrowed her brow. "By the way, what's your name, again? Not Chris, I mean the other one."

"That's what we need to talk about," I told her. I took a seat on a low bench by the window, and I motioned for her to sit down next to me. "You haven't told anybody about me, have you?"

"No," she said in a dismissively sarcastic tone. "I'm not little, I can keep a secret."

"Lydia, this is kind of grown-up stuff, but it's really, really important, okay? I know you're only six years old—"

"I'm seven," she corrected.

"Oh. Well, happy birthday. But—"

"Plus, that was like two whole months ago, so really I'm seven and a half."

I nodded. "Okay, so not so good with the fractions just yet. But see, that was all a big mistake. You weren't supposed to see me do all the stuff that I did."

"But I helped," she protested.

I winced at the memory. I'd used her as a distraction in that little caper. Twice. Admittedly, I was under a lot of pressure at the time, but it wasn't exactly my quickest thinking ever.

"Yes, you did. You were very brave. But being a hero is really dangerous, and you could get hurt."

She nodded. "Uh huh. That's why you gotta give me powers."

"Oh, man," I groaned. "Look, Lydia, I can't—"

"Sure, you can!"

"Lydia, I can't. I can't even if I wanted to. That's not how having powers works. I can't just give you some of mine."

Her little face was a mask of disappointment. "Oh. Then how'd you get your powers?" she asked.

"I—"

I actually wasn't entirely sure. I knew that after I ran headlong into a tree I woke up with my powers, but needless to say I suspected there was more to the story than that. I also knew that if I told Lydia that much, I'd soon find her outside plowing full-speed into the stately maple tree in the front yard. At that point, I'd have a quick trip to the emergency room on my hands and a lot of explaining to do to my very irate aunt and uncle.

"I, uh, don't know," I admitted.

"Oh!" she repeated, but this time her voice was suddenly more cheerful. "Then maybe I can get them, too," she decided.

I checked the time. We needed to get moving.

"Look, Lydia, sometimes being a superhero means doing different things. Like sometimes we rescue people in trouble. Or sometimes we fight criminals to bring them to justice."

"Uh huh. Like that time I helped you. When you used me as bait for those bad guys."

"O-okay, let's maybe not refer to it quite that way. But, yes. My point is that I've actually got something super-important to do this afternoon, so I need you to come with me. Okay?"

Her eyes lit up behind her little plastic mask. "Yeah! You mean superhero stuff? I'm really good at punching, I've been watching Tommy practice. Here, see?" She threw a few spastic punches at the air and then kicked over a stuffed giraffe. Suddenly I had a better idea why Aunt Jessica had been concerned about exposing Lydia to scenes of violence.

"That's—okay—that's—whoa—" I said, trying to get her focused. "Yeah, this isn't a punching thing. It's a lot of talking."

Lydia frowned slightly. "That sounds dumb."

"Well, it's not. It's very important," I said, feeling strangely defensive. "It's adult stuff. You wouldn't understand."

She seemed unconvinced. Then she asked, "Are you going like that?"

"No, I'm not," I said with a smile as I retrieved my small handheld CosFit device from my skirt pocket. I was just about to push the button when I hesitated.

Lydia was looking at me in wide-eyed anticipation. "What?"

"I'm not used to doing this in front of somebody," I said. Then I shook it off and activated the CosFit.

Over the next minute or so—and under Lydia's careful gaze—the CosFit's nanobots transformed my civilian clothes into the durable nanomesh fabric of my Prodigious Girl costume. While that was going on, I used my shapeshifting power to shift my body underneath from Chris into Prodigious Girl.

Lydia watched quietly through the whole transformation, and I gave her a friendly smile as I slipped into a confident pose. She had to be geeking out, with an actual superhero standing right there in her bedroom.

"Huh," she said finally.

Not exactly the reaction I'd been expecting.

Quietly, she gave me a thorough once-over, moving to the side and behind me as she scrutinized my appearance. She reached out with her little fingers to feel the fabric of my cape. I was starting to feel a bit self-conscious.

"It's really dark," she said, studying my costume.

I wasn't about to try and explain how I'd patterned my blue-and-purple look after my mentor, Prodigy. "It helps me be inconspicuous at night," I said.

"Huh," she declared, looking at my chest.

"Yeah, well...yeah," I muttered, crossing my arms.

"What's your name?"

I smiled broadly. "I'm Prodigious Girl," I told her.

"Oh," she said simply. Not that I was overly hung up on the opinion of a seven-year-old, but I was still holding out for a slightly bigger response. I waited quietly as she paused to consider that.

"That's a dumb name," she decided.

"Ehh," I equivocated, giving a little shrug.

A small wrinkle creased her forehead as she seemed to give it further consideration. Then she looked at me and took a sharp inhale, obviously about to ask a question.

"'What does prodigious mean,' right?" I volunteered before she could ask.

"Yeah."

I cleared my throat quietly. "It means...uh, 'wonderful,'" I said. (Which, I mean, technically that is true. The superlative pronoun is a classic. Y'know, strictly speaking, Prodigious Girl isn't really any different than 'Wonder Woman' or 'Supergirl.' Though I had no intention of explaining the concept of a double entendre to my seven-year-old cousin.)

Then she kicked me in the shin. Hard.

"Hey!" I said. "What was—"

"You didn't feel that at all, did you?" she said excitedly. Then her eyes darted around the room, obviously looking for something heavier to clobber me with.

"Stop. We're not hitting, okay?"

"Okay," she said in kind of a distracted manner. Then something occurred to her. "You lifted a car that one time! I saw you! What else can you lift? Can you lift...um, the house? Lift the house!"

"I can't lift the house."

"Oh. But you can fly, right? Do some flying!"

I smiled a little, and then I floated upwards so that I was hovering about a foot off the floor. Her room was cramped enough that I couldn't exactly fly around, but it had the desired effect.

"Cool," she whispered as she waved her arm underneath me like she was trying to figure out a magic trick. "What other stuff can you do?"

I was—admittedly, extremely belatedly—starting to worry about over-sharing.

For some reason, I'd found myself being leery about talking about my ability to shapeshift. I could instantly shift between my two identities, but to change one or the other into something else took time, sometimes a couple hours to look like a different person.

However, it struck me that I hadn't actually played with my shapeshifting power all that much recently. When I'd first gotten my powers, it was a big lark because I hadn't yet settled on my Prodigious Girl identity, so I had an extra "template" slot to mess around. I could slowly change my alternate form into various celebrities—a trick that Caleb particularly enjoyed—but then instantly swap back to Chris when my parents were around. Though lately since I'd kind of settled in to my two identities as Chris and Prodigious Girl, it felt weird to mess with either of them very much.

My other superpower was my power mimicry ability, but I didn't think I was ready to explain that. That was in no small part because I didn't fully understand it myself. Sometimes under periods of duress, I'd found myself able to mimic the superpowers of other nearby metahumans, and it's no exaggeration that it had saved my life a few times. Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, I couldn't control it consciously. That was the power I understood the least.

None of which I wanted to get into with my seven-year-old cousin right at the moment.

"That's pretty much it," I told her as I floated back to the ground.

She pursed her lips slightly. "But...you just changed into this girl," she pointed out. "Ooh! Can you change into other stuff, too? Change into a rabbit!"

"We gotta get going," I told her, to her obvious disappointment. Though given how excited she was, I knew she'd love having me take her for a flight into the city.

"Nooooo!" Lydia shrieked. "Too high! Too high, too high, too high..."

Well, it had seemed like a good idea.

In my defense, we had already been running late. I wasn't about to let her go out in public in her 'superhero costume,' so I'd made her change back into her regular clothes. Or at least, that's what I told her to do. When she emerged, however, I could tell that she was wearing her regular clothes on top of her "costume." It didn't look quite as stupid as it sounded, but even when I'd warned her that she'd be too hot like that, Lydia steadfastly refused to change.

She was also carrying a small pink backpack that I suspected contained her mask. So, with a sigh, I asked her if she wanted to bring a toy or a stuffed animal along, and I started to reach for a plush white rabbit with a top hat that was clearly placed in a place of honor on a shelf.

Lydia was aghast. "No," she said, as she slid her hand-held electronic game and airpods into her bag. "Besides, I'm not allowed to play with that one."

I looked at the rabbit and shook my head. "Good grief, you have stupid rules in this house," I muttered to myself. Of course, in my house I was running around dressed up as a girl and fighting crime, so I probably wasn't in a place to judge.

My aunt and uncle's house was a bit secluded, so once we were outside I'd figured I was safe to take off without being seen. I'd planned to give Lydia a fun little ride with plenty of time to majestically swoop around some buildings downtown to get her excited, and I'd still have plenty of time to make my appointment.

Of course, that plan hit the skids once I took off with her in my arms and her shriek of what I'd initially assumed was delight turned into a blood-curdling scream of panic and terror. While I was still less than fifty feet off the ground.

If it weren't for my invulnerable skin, I suspect Lydia's diminutive fingers would easily have drawn blood, so I landed and we tried again, more slowly. Then, a third time. Much more slowly.

By the time I hit a comfortable cruising altitude, I was hovering about six feet off the ground and moving at a brisk walking pace. As we floated above the sidewalk, a bicyclist sped past us.

I mention all this by way of explaining how it came to pass that Lydia and I were soon riding the Faraday Transit Authority's Connector bus #621 heading downtown. It was pretty embarrassing to be dressed as a superhero and riding public transportation, but Lord knows I'd endured worse.

I was typing away at my iComm when a creepy looking middle-aged guy leered at my boobs and opened his mouth like he was about to say something.

"Keep on steppin'," I said without even looking up.

I pulled up the time again. "Dammit," I swore under my breath.

"What's so important, anyway?" Lydia asked me.

I looked down at her, unsure how to respond.

The truth was that I'd been going through a bit of a rough patch in my superheroics. I mean, I'd been fighting the good fight and all, but there comes a time in every young hero's life where you'd just like a bit of positive reinforcement to justify all of the ass kickings you've endured in the cause of justice (or whatever gets you out of bed in the morning). I didn't regret becoming a hero or anything, but an occasional "attagirl" would've been nice. Though I don't think it would surprise you to know that the "thanks" one gets when one is a heroine of curvaceous proportions aren't always appreciated.

But you know what? I could have lived without any of that. Truly. One doesn't sidekick to Prodigy without developing a thick skin.

What I wanted—what I really wanted—was to inspire people. Saving people was great, but if I could inspire people to do greater things, I felt like I could really make a difference. But right now I wasn't even sure people knew I existed.

So, I'd decided to do something about it.

The night before my babysitting gig, out of the blue I'd gotten a last-minute invite to be the guest of honor at a ceremony that was dedicating a new center for Faraday City's underprivileged youth. The plan was that I'd smile and wave, pose for a bunch of photos with the kids, and say a few words to the crowd. I was so, so ready for this.

Or so I kept telling myself.

"I...it's complicated," I said to Lydia. I then returned my attention to my iComm device where I'd pulled up a notes app that I was using to jot down some things I wanted to say at the ceremony.

"Hey, um, PG?" Lydia asked. Before we'd left, I'd explained at some length not to call me Chris, but either 'PG' or 'Peej' was fine since she obviously wasn't enamored with Prodigious Girl. Then she kind of mused on it for a moment. "PG. Pee Gee. Ha. Hey, you wanna know what's funny? You're PG, but since I'm Pretty Good Girl, I'm Pee Gee G—"

"Lydia," I interrupted her, lowering my voice. "Now's not a good time, okay? I'm trying to get this figured out, and it's really important. So, can you maybe quietly play your game or look out the window, or something?"

She didn't say anything, but she just quietly sat there with a forlorn look on her face.

Xenos watched through the telescopic sight of his multiplex energy rifle as he assessed the situation. This was...unexpected.

He'd always known it was unlikely that his plan would go flawlessly...any encounter with metahumans could be counted upon to take on unforeseen elements. Still, it was unusual for things to take on such unpredicted quirks even before the encounter had begun in earnest.

He slung his rifle over his shoulder and expelled a long slow breath of air. It was unlike him to be indecisive, but the young heroine had presented him with an unexpected opportunity. The most difficult part of his plan had always required the services of a third party to decode the information he required. He had one lined up, and he'd used them before, but it would take precious time he didn't have. Furthermore, in his experience, more people only meant more ways for things to go wrong. But this might allow him to do everything himself.

Simple, neat, and quiet.

He backed away from the window and activated his cloaking shield. He didn't enjoy using it—it blurred his own perceptions and gave him a wicked headache—but the near-invisibility it provided was extremely useful in ops like this one.

However, if everything went to plan, he wouldn't need it again after today.

After Lydia and I exited the bus, I checked the time again. We were going to be late, but I'd hoped it would be fashionably late. After all, people who engaged the services of superheroes for these sorts of events usually appreciated that we were, after all, superheroes. If they pressed me, I figured I could humbly imply that I was busy saving the city from a runaway meteor or an intelligent radioactive mutant pterodactyl. (Which, in fairness, Prodigy and I had actually done last month. Fractaldactyl was likely spoiling for a rematch.)

Suddenly, my iComm beeped, signaling that Chris's cell phone was ringing. I was about to ignore it, but then I remembered how rotten my luck was, and I realized who it had to be. I retrieved my phone from my utility belt, checked the caller ID, and swore under my breath. Aunt Jessica. Because of course it was.

My mind raced as I realized the myriad problems in my current situation. My problems had problems. First, we were supposed to still be at home. Second, I was currently a girl, and one who didn't sound like Chris. So, if I picked up the phone, my aunt would no doubt be curious why I'd left her young daughter in the care of a teenage girl they didn't know within the first two hours of my babysitting duty. I made a mental note to petition Prodigy to make me some kind of voice-altering app for my phone to deal with situations like this, but at the moment, I didn't have a lot of good options.

My one bit of good luck was that we were standing near a quiet alleyway, and I was able to hustle Lydia over there. By the eighth ring, I'd managed to shapeshift back into Chris and picked up the phone as I ducked down behind a stack of empty boxes. In that amount of time, I wasn't able to use my CosFit to change my costume, so I looked like a teenage guy badly dressed up in a Prodigious Girl costume.

"Aunt Jessica! How's the trip? I didn't expect to hear from you so s—" I nodded as I listened. "We're great. We're all great. Both of us, that is. Great."

Lydia was standing there, looking at me strangely. I hadn't had a chance to explain why I was a guy in PG's costume, so she was looking me up and down like I was nuts. I tugged at my short skirt reflexively.

I tried to cover the mouthpiece to cover the sounds of nearby downtown traffic. "No! No, of course we're still at home. I wouldn't dream of taking Lydia out. We're watching an... educational... nature documentary. About birds. That live in downtown areas."

A loud horn sounded. "Jerkass!" a redheaded woman shrieked out her open window at another driver as she drove past.

"That w-was a...red-tufted jerkass bird," I explained. "They're very rare. They—" I paused. "Oh, sure."

I covered the mouthpiece and turned to Lydia. "Your mom wants to talk to you," I said to her hurriedly. I wasn't sure in the span of scant seconds how to explain everything. "You need to—"

"Lie," she said flatly as she took the phone. "Hi, Mom! Nuh-uh, Chris hasn't made lunch yet. Yeah, it's about dumb birds. Uh huh, I will. I love you, too."

She handed me the phone back, and I fully expected to get reamed out by my aunt, but she'd already hung up. Under Lydia's watchful eye, I quietly shapeshifted back into Prodigious Girl as I returned the phone to my utility belt.

"Thanks," I said, feeling strangely more comfortable talking in my girl's voice, dressed as I was. I brushed my hair back over my shoulder. "Y-you know, heroes try not to lie—"

"I get it," she said, a sour little expression on her face.

I started to lead her back onto the street and then stopped as I turned to look at her.

"What?"

"It just occurred to me. I can't let you out of my sight, but it's going to draw attention if people see me walking around with a kid. If there are cameras and anybody recognizes you, then they might start to wonder about the connection between us."

"Plus, Mom will kill you."

I tilted my head in quiet agreement. "You're going to need some sort of dis—"

I stopped short as her face lit up brightly.

"No. No, that's not what I— Lydia—"

It was too late. She was already peeling off her outer layer of clothes.

I sighed heavily as we arrived at the event. I noticed that there were lots of people around, but I quietly edged away from them since even a lesser-known superhero like me tended to draw attention, and I didn't have time to deal with autograph hounds. I saw that there was a backstage area and headed over there as briskly and inconspicuously as circumstances allowed.

Lydia, for her part, was grinning like an idiot walking along next to me in her pink costume and mask. She'd even picked up a confident little swagger.

I had to admit I was getting fairly excited. It was a good-sized crowd out front, and they even had a live band playing to keep people entertained. A lot of money was obviously going into this redevelopment, tearing down the old buildings to make way for some new civic grounds with a new youth center to serve the needs of Faraday City's underprivileged kids. In the back of my head, I could practically hear my mentor Prodigy's cynical growl that it was probably all a big tax dodge and boondoggle, but I thought it was worthwhile. And it was pretty thrilling to think that I was the guest of honor!

The space backstage was abuzz with activity, but so far nobody seemed to be paying us much mind. I was still practicing in my head what I was going to say. I thought it was inspirational but pithy, and I figured I might even coax a little laugh from the crowd with a joke. I was chuckling to myself at my own cleverness when I made eye contact with a harried-looking production assistant holding a tablet. She immediately started to hurry in my direction when she spotted me.

I turned to Lydia.

"Listen. I need you to stay out of the way for a little bit, okay? I need to talk to this lady, and then I'm going to go on stage for a few minutes. You go wait over there, okay?" I said, pointing at an area to the side of the stage that was out of the way, but where I could still keep an eye on her.

"But I wanna help!" she complained.

"You'll be helping by staying out of the way," I told her. "After I'm done talking, I'll come get you. We may have to hang around for a bit afterwards, so stay close to me, but don't talk to me like you know me."

"Super," Lydia said. From a child development perspective, I wasn't certain of the median age by which a youth might master sarcasm, but I felt like Lydia was busting the curve.

I gave her a gentle nudge to get moving and watched as she took position leaning against one of the big metal support pillars. She had her arms crossed indignantly in front of her, and she had a surly expression that was plainly visible under her little plastic mask.

The production assistant did a double take as she hurried up to me, her eyes cutting quickly between me and Lydia. "I didn't think sidekicks could have sidekicks," she offered.

I bristled slightly at the title, a none-too-subtle reminder that I wasn't considered a full hero in the eyes of Faraday City.

"It's an internship program," I told her.

She let the comment pass. "My name's Kim, I'm helping to organize the event. Things are already underway, but your bit is going to start very shortly," she said. But as she did so, she looked me up and down with an odd expression. With my costume and figure, I was used to getting some funny looks from time to time, but usually people tried to be a bit more discreet.

"I'm sorry," Kim said as she peered at me uncertainly, "but...are you Prestigious Girl?"

My face fell.

"No, I'm Prodigious Girl," I said with a heavy sigh, putting an emphasis on the first part of my name.

"Excuse me?"

I shook my head helplessly. "Ugh, this happens more often than you'd think. We get each other's messages all the time."

"So, you're not—?"

Her inquiry was cut short when a sudden puff of magical smoke burst into existence a few feet away from Kim and me. The quickly-dissipating cloud smelled of spring flowers, and out of it emerged a fresh-faced teenage heroine in a glittering mask that covered the top half of her face. She had a winning smile and wore her hair in a cute blonde bob that stood in sharp contrast to her black costume that was highlighted with blue rhinestones, making it resemble the outfit of a stage magician's assistant.

"Hey, Presty," I said to her.

"Oh, hey, Peej!" she said brightly, obviously surprised to see me. A quizzical look crossed her face for a moment, but she quickly read my expression as realization dawned.

"Oh, man. Not this again?"

I shrugged helplessly. "I think they wanted Tiggy—"

In the midst of this new confusion, an agitated man came hurrying up to us. He was an older gentleman with graying hair at the temples and was dressed in an expensive suit, and he seemed puzzled by the appearance of two heroines. "Where is she? We need her on stage right now!"

The befuddled Kim turned to the new heroine. "Are you Prestigious Girl?"

"No, I'm Prestitigious Girl," Presty explained.

"I hate this city," Kim muttered.

The older man, clearly having no patience for this nonsense, turned to her and curtly said, "Just pick one." Then without so much as acknowledging us, he hurried off towards the sounds of the crowd.

The beleaguered production assistant looked like she was about to call after him to say something, but eventually her shoulders slumped and she turned to look between Presty and me. I appreciated full well that she was stressed and obviously under a lot of pressure, but it would have been nice if she could have at least made it look like her choice was in any kind of doubt.

"C'mon," she said to Presty as she grabbed the other heroine by her hand and escorted her towards the stage. "Sorry," she called over her shoulder to me as an afterthought. Meanwhile, I stood there by myself as I heard the sound of one of Presty's flashy magical spells, and the crowd erupted into cheers.

Crestfallen, I let out a heavy sigh. I supposed there was nothing else to do but to collect Lydia and take the bus back and finish my babysitting gig, which was apparently all that I was good for.

Except that Lydia was gone.

I rocketed over to where Lydia had been standing a moment ago, hoping that maybe she'd simply gotten distracted by Presty's improvised magic show she was putting on and had moved to get a better look. But she wasn't there. She wasn't anywhere.

I could feel myself starting to panic, and I wanted to scream out her name, but I had the good sense to bite my lip since yelling out her name would draw attention to us, and maybe even paint a real target on her back. A lone little girl in a Halloween costume people might ignore. But if people knew they could use her as leverage against a superhero, then all of a sudden she might find herself in real danger.

In the back of my mind, I could practically hear Prodigy lecturing me about not losing my head. I tried to get my surging emotions under control as I flew up to a higher vantage point and looked for her. There were plenty of people in the assembled crowd, but not that many. Certainly not so many that a little girl in a bright pink costume wouldn't have stood out. I hovered there for a minute, trying to think logically. The odds that someone had just grabbed her were low, even in a place like Faraday City. I hadn't been that far away, and I'd had line of sight. She would have screamed or made noise. Hell, even Presty might have noticed something.

Okay. She wandered off. Maybe to use the bathroom? Or maybe she was hungry? She mentioned us not having lunch. I ran my hands through my hair as I started to wonder if she'd seen a freaking churro stand or someth—

"Prodigious Girl!"

The shrill voice caught my attention immediately, and I quickly spun in the direction I'd heard it come from, over next to one of the vacant buildings set to be demolished. And there, standing right in front of one of the open doors, was Lydia, waving to get my attention.

I flew over to her in a blink and swept her up desperately in my arms, squeezing her tight.

"There you are! I was so worried! Don't you ever ever ever do that again!" I said breathlessly. I gave her another hug and then held her out at arm's length and ran my hands over her face and body to make sure she was all right.

"Prodigious Girl, somebody's hurt!" Lydia said, pointing towards the door into the building. "We gotta help him!"

I peered inside. It was basically just a shell of a building. What the hell had she been doing in there? Had she heard someone? I didn't hear anybody now.

"He was in here!" Lydia said, tugging on my hand. "This way, I'll show you!"

I glanced around. There was nobody else nearby. I would have killed for a security guard or someone who I could leave Lydia with while I checked this out.

"Was there anybody else in there?" I asked her.

"No, just the man. But he was on the ground, I think he's hurt. C'mon, we gotta hurry!"

She slipped my grasp and headed inside, and I charged in after her. It was probably just a homeless person or something, but I wasn't inclined to take any chances.

I grabbed her by the wrist. "Don't run off like that," I admonished her. "Maybe you should wait outside."

"I wanna stay with you," she complained as she squeezed my hand tight. "He's right over here, I'll show you!"

She led me into the next room. I freaking hated this. How had she gotten over here so fast? My delicate and finely-honed inner sense of danger was setting off all kinds of alarm bells, and I pulled Lydia closer.

As we rounded the corner, I saw a man slumped over on the ground. Wearing a costume.

I couldn't make him out clearly, but from my vantage point, I didn't recognize him. He could have been a hero or a villain, I wasn't sure. His costume was black-and-white medium weight body armor, not unlike the kind that Prodigy used. It looked like he had some kind of utility belt, and a black hood obscured his head. Laying on the ground not too far away from his prone body was some kind of high-tech rifle that looked like some kind of energy weapon.

I froze. Okay, we weren't fooling around anymore, this was superhero stuff. I didn't know what was going on, but I had to get Lydia out of there. Etiquette be damned, I had to go interrupt Presty on stage and get her to come help me out, and—

"Maybe you should call for help? Or an ambulance?" Lydia offered.

"Right," I said absently. I glanced around again to make sure there was nobody else nearby looking to jump us, but signaling for help was a good idea. I could call EMS, and if I set off an emergency beacon, it'd grab the attention of any nearby heroes, including Presty. I tapped out the access code on my iComm and had just begun to signal for help when I felt a shiver up my spine.

Lydia was staring right at me. I didn't think it was my imagination that her eyes had taken on a distinctly ruddy glow, just visible in the dim light of the room.

In that moment, I learned an extremely important lesson that I would carry forward with me in my career as a superhero.

That lesson was that I did not, in fact, possess any sort of "danger sense" that preternaturally warned me of threats. I now realized this because the creeping sensation I'd been experiencing just a moment before had been pointing me in 100% the wrong direction.

With time and the benefit of hindsight, what I would later come to appreciate is that novice superheroes do not possess any such intuition. However, what almost every single novice superhero does experience is a sense of overconfidence that leads them to mistakenly believe they have a sense for danger.

I would reflect on such musings later, but at that particular moment I was busy having my soul forcibly ripped from my body.

I screamed. Or at least, I think I screamed. It felt like my entire body had been dipped in cold fire, but it didn't burn me so much as...I wasn't sure what. The last time I felt something this disorienting was when I'd entered a telepathic bond with Demetria and my senses had gone entirely out of control, but that had felt like sensory overload. This felt more like dying.

Whatever was causing it had come from Lydia—or not Lydia, it was very confusing—but the second I felt it, it triggered some kind of reflex response in me.

This time, I did hear a scream. I wondered if it was me.

Slowly, I tried to pull myself up from the ground and looked around bleary-eyed. I felt weird. Weak. Weaker than I'd felt in a long time. And the floor was so cold.

"What the hell...?" a man's voice came, and I realized it was from the metahuman in the body armor. I wasn't sure if he'd been genuinely unconscious or just playing possum, but he seemed awake right now, but disoriented. I could relate.

I had to get Lydia out of here. Now.

Fighting through my dizziness and disorientation, I forced myself to my feet and—

—and suddenly realized that I was in the body of a seven-year-old girl.

I felt frail. And small. And very, very vulnerable. I looked down in disbelief at Lydia's little hands with their skinny arms. I touched my face and body to confirm what my benumbed mind was still only grappling with. I was wearing Lydia's clothes, I realized. Somehow, my mind had an easier time wrapping itself around that notion rather than the more abstract concept that I was now Lydia.

"What's going on...?" I heard a girl's voice say. Not Lydia's, though. No, this one was older. By now, my lethargic brain had started to catch up to my situation, and as I turned to look in her direction, I suspected what I was going to see. I just couldn't bring myself to believe what my eyes were telling me.

Seeing Prodigious Girl standing there in front of me was jarring enough. I was absolutely not prepared for a giant Prodigious Girl the size of a professional basketball player.

Right. Because I was small. Okay, it would really be helpful if my brain were fully engaged, here.

I heard a groan from the man in the costume. He was on his feet as well, but unsteady. I got a better look at him now, but his costume wasn't ringing any bells. He was gigantic—no, I reminded myself, that was me, again—and I saw what at first looked light a bright red face visible under his black hood, until I realized that it was a red metallic mask to obscure his identity. I watched him pull something from his utility belt that I immediately recognized as a stim pack, and he jammed it into his upper thigh. He yelled out in pain, but from my experience with Prodigy, I knew those were like mainlining adrenaline. You didn't use one of those unless you expected to get into a fight.

"Rrraaaaagh!" he howled out in pain, getting even Lydia's full attention.

Lydia's face contorted in shock, and I grabbed her by the hand to try and get her to focus. My mind raced through options, and none of them were good.

The hooded figure paused for a moment and glared directly at Lydia. But I realized that wasn't what was happening. He was trying to swap bodies with her! That was his plan all along. He'd taken over Lydia, and he'd tried to lure me in using her body. But for some reason it was my body that he wanted. Then—somehow—Lydia had landed in it by mistake. However, whatever he was trying to do right now obviously wasn't working. I hoped that was only temporary. If he wasn't able to trade bodies with us anymore, then—

I tried to push it out of my mind.

"We have to fight him! You have to fight him!" I yelled at Lydia as she looked at me in bewilderment. "We can't let him—"

In the time it took me to say that, our attacker had executed a nimble combat roll where he dived for his energy rifle that was laying on the ground, and he'd come back up aiming it directly at us while crouched on one knee. He thumbed a control on the side of the rifle, and I heard it make a rapidly escalating high-pitched whine that signaled an overload blast! He wasn't fooling around!

I was standing right in front of Lydia, and it took me a split second to realize that while my old body might be able to take a blast of that magnitude, it would make short work of the little girl I now was. With nowhere else to hide, I ducked behind the sturdiest cover I could find—namely, Lydia.

There was an electronic screeching noise accompanied by a blinding flash, and even though I was protected from the worst of the blast, I could still feel the massive heat from the energy discharge.

"Owww!" Lydia shrieked.

Our attacker stood up and pressed his advantage, and the room was illuminated with two more quick blasts from his gun as he got to his feet and took careful aim. Not as powerful, I realized. Stun blasts, maybe? I'm sure they still hurt like crazy.

"Ow! Quit it!" Lydia cried out, holding up her hands to protect her face as he blasted twice more into her midsection. She backed up and shied away from his assault, and I tried to stay behind her, hoping that our foe didn't decide to toss off a quick shot to pick me off. But as we edged nearer the doorway, Lydia bumped into a heavy metal bench. With one free hand she grabbed at it and wrenched it free and swung it wildly, so close to my head that I could feel it brush one of my pigtails. She threw it at the guy like it was a softball and forced him to dive for cover as it landed with a tremendous crash.

I tried to ignore how close Lydia had come to accidentally killing me. The middle of a superhero fight was no place for an unprotected seven-year-old!

"Good! That's good!" I told her. "More of that! Get closer! Get in there and punch—" As I barked orders at her in my little voice, it suddenly hit me that this was the kind of stuff that Prodigy did to me in our earlier outings, yelling at me in the middle of combat when mostly I was concerned about not dying. Lydia looked at me in shock and disbelief with tears running down her face. My face.

I could see it clearly. She wanted to run.

That's when I noticed that she was floating four inches off the ground.

"No, wait!" I yelled. Before I knew what I was doing, I grabbed her around the waist, hugging her as tightly as I possibly could. That's when Lydia took off flying.

Back when I first got my powers, my earliest attempts at flight were...memorable. It took me a while before I was able to learn any measure of real flight control, much less more refined things like hovering. At the time, I was glad that nobody was around to see those early attempts, because there was a lot of flailing and no soft landings. Sadly, Lydia wasn't doing any better.

Her intense desire to get away gave her adrenaline-fueled retreat a level of chaotic disorder than even I'd never experienced in those early attempts. We jinked around and madly corkscrewed around the room, and it was all I could do to hold on. My eyes were squeezed tightly shut, but I could hear the high-pitched blasts as our hooded attacker tried to tag us with his rifle. Lydia wasn't giving him a very easy target, but that wasn't much consolation.

"We have to go down!" I yelled, my tiny fingers digging in as tightly as I could into her midsection, my knuckles white with the strain. "We have to fight him!" I yelled.

I had no idea if she was even listening to me. I didn't want to face him either, but I knew for a fact that he was the only one capable of swapping us back to the correct bodies. I thought that maybe if we could knock him out or something, we could force him to—

That thought was cut short as the air was practically ripped out of my lungs as Lydia took off at terrifying speed. It was all I could do to cling on to her as we crashed through what sounded like a window, and we were suddenly outside. Her velocity increased even more, and I struggled for breath as I clung on to her as the wind roared around us at deafening levels.

Finally, her speed slowed and I felt a cold wind against me. My stomach lurched as we sailed upwards to our apogee and then began to drop again as gravity took hold. I'd had my face buried in her midsection, but I slowly chanced a peek to take a look where we were.

We were at least a thousand feet in the air. The city was laid out in front of us like a tiny model. The skyscrapers were like little boxes. The gleaming metallic Spire that stood in the center of the city resembled a small silver toothpick. I could clearly make out the gentle curvature of the coastline, with the vast ocean receding off towards the distant horizon.

And I had no powers. I wasn't even certain that Lydia remembered that I was still there. If she dropped me, there was zero chance she'd be able to catch me.

I was going to die.

Lydia and I both screamed.