My World My Justice Ch.33 (Patreon)

I'm seated cross-legged on the floor, watching the fitness trainer demonstrate another routine that I'll have to perform on camera later. I'm already dressed for the shoot; a compression short-sleeve blue shirt and a pair of baggy workout pants.

Yeah, after some charity work these past few days, I'm back at the gym owned by that media conglomerate to film another workout video. Apparently the first one was wildly successful—breaking some kind of viewership record for fitness content or something like that. Along with filming, I'm also approving new product lines and suggesting modifications to existing ones. Futaba gave me a whole detailed list of potential new products that would feature my image and branding. Including new action figures and toys, because of course she wants to collect them all herself.

Same otaku girl as always.

"Wow, I knew you had like an agency managing you, but I didn't think it was THIS big, especially this fast," Mirko's voice cuts through my thoughts as she enters the room, looking around with obvious interest while drinking from a sports bottle. "Like, you-level big, big guy. This is some serious pro stuff you've got going."

Well, Cauldron is helping me, technically speaking.

Her face curls into that competitive grin of hers as she surveys the equipment and setup. "Also, pretty cool that you basically own this gym now. Say, can you talk with your head honcho so I can get a discount membership or something? Hero rates?"

The rabbit heroine is wearing a white tank top that shows off her toned arms and stomach, a black baseball cap that's been modified with holes cut for her rabbit ears to poke through comfortably, and a pair of tight blue athletic shorts that don’t leave much to the imagination.

Her choice, not mine. Though I'm definitely not complaining about the view.

The outfit really showcases her athletic body—all muscle and explosive power packed into a compact frame. Even more than the time we had a boxing match.

She moves over and sits down cross-legged next to me on the floor. Yeah, with our height difference when I'm standing, sitting like this makes her look even smaller. 

I have to actively resist the urge to pet the bnuuy

And yes, Mirko wanted to tag along today—something she's been doing quite a lot lately, finding excuses to be around whenever I'm doing public appearances or training with Taylor. 

However, I have no complaints about that. The company immediately seized the opportunity to turn it into a collaboration of sorts, some kind of joint promotional thing featuring both of us. Although it took quite a bit of time and negotiation to actually get her to sign all the contracts and agreements. I had to get Futaba to help her review everything line by line, even if I know that these contracts from this company are very fair or ambiguous wording to fuck you over.

I guess she got burned by a shady company or exploitative contract before, which explains why she was so wary about the whole thing. It also explains why she was so pissed off about that medical bill situation months ago, probably dealing with billing issues on top of contract problems.

So here we are, watching our fitness instructor explain and demonstrate the choreography for today's collaborative shoot.

The instructor is Marcus again, who hasn't lost any of his energy. If anything, his enthusiasm has only grown since our first session—probably because I gave him another autograph and he's getting paid extra for this high-profile shoot. But the latter is definitely a secondary thing for him.

Mirko suddenly raises her hand like a student in class. "Hey, can I add some more flair to this routine? Like, making it more dynamic with some jumping kicks where it makes sense? Mix in some explosive movements? That'd be way cooler than just regular squats or static kicks."

Marcus smiles appreciatively and nods. "That's actually a really solid idea! Shows initiative and demonstrates that people can push further beyond the simple base exercises once they've mastered the fundamentals and built up their strength. I like the way you think—progression is key to any good fitness program."

"INDEED, NOBLE FRIEND!" I boom enthusiastically. "It is the noblest of pursuits to put forth maximum effort in all endeavors! To always seek to surpass oneself and break through one's limits, for justice always looks to excel beyond all known limitations!"

Mirko snorts with barely suppressed laughter beside me, and lightly punches my side with her fist. "Easy there, big guy. Save some of that for the workout."

Marcus just grins and continues with his demonstration, clearly used to my particular dramatic speaking style by now. 

Well... we'll see how this collaboration actually goes when we start the actual filming.

After about twenty minutes of listening and practicing the movements to get the choreography down, the double doors to the room suddenly swing open.

"Hey, sorry for being late—the meeting with the director took way longer than expected. Bureaucracy and all that."

Everyone immediately turns to look at the newcomer.

It's a guy in professional gym clothes—a tight sleeveless compression shirt that shows off an impressively lean and muscular build, paired with athletic shorts. He's got wavy brown hair styled casually, a strong square jaw, and stands probably around six feet tall, a very good physique. There's a white towel draped casually around his neck.

And most importantly, he's wearing a distinctive blue domino mask.

He looks a bit familiar, but I can't quite place where I've—

"Legend?!" Mirko exclaims, jumping to her feet in surprise. "What the hell are you doing in Brockton Bay?"

Ah, right. Legend. The paragon of what heroes should aspire to be, probably the strongest blaster in the entirety of Earth Bet, and member of the Triumvirate. One of the most popular and respected capes across the globe, known for actually living up to the heroic ideal both on and off camera.

I'd talked with Futaba about trying to arrange a meeting with him at some point, but this works even better! Organic and natural.

Legend stops in his tracks and looks at Mirko with equal surprise, his eyes widening slightly behind the blue mask. "Oh, Mirko! Didn't expect to see you here—I thought it would be just me and True Might."

But he recovers quickly, his surprise melting into a friendly, welcoming smile as he extends a hand toward her in greeting. "Good to see you though. How've you been?"

She rapidly regains her usual aggressive composure and grins viciously as she roughly takes his hand and shakes it with perhaps more force than strictly necessary, clearly testing his strength. "Heard through the grapevine you got transferred down from New York. What, was the big city too much for you to handle? Couldn't keep up with the pace?"

He laughs good-naturedly at the jab, completely unbothered by her challenging tone, and rubs the back of his head with his free hand in a self-deprecating gesture. "I'll admit the transfer was a bit of a surprise when they announced it, but honestly? Working here will probably be more like a short vacation compared to the absolute chaos up in New York these days, especially with that new villain causing problems every other week. The change of pace will be nice."

He pauses, then looks up to meet my eyes directly, and extends his hand toward me with that same genuine, welcoming smile that makes people instinctively trust him.

"True Might, right? About time we actually met face-to-face instead of just through reports and video footage. You're definitely the man of the hour from what I've been hearing from everyone in the Protectorate." He smirks with a very friendly, approachable aura. The man really is naturally charismatic.

I grin widely and take his offered hand with enthusiastic vigor, shaking it firmly before pulling him in for an impromptu bro-hug, clapping him solidly on the back.

"FRIEND LEGEND!" I boom happily, my voice echoing across the room. "It brings this glorious heart of justice tremendous joy to finally meet such a distinguished and noble ally in the eternal fight against the tyrannical forces of evil! Together, our combined dedication to righteousness and justice shall burn brighter than any sun in the sky!"

Legend laughs warmly, not put off by my dramatic greeting at all; in fact, he seems amused and pleased by it. "Gotta admit, the pictures and videos I've seen made you look smaller somehow. You're actually pretty damn massive in person—no wonder you can throw around a thirty-foot dragon."

"That's my big guy!" Mirko chimes in proudly, grinning as she reaches up to pat my lower back. There's pride in her voice too.

"The camera truly cannot capture the full measure and magnificence of righteousness!" I declare with absolute conviction, finally releasing Legend from the enthusiastic hug. "For justice transcends all magnitudes as we cannot measure out justice!"

Okay, that was cringe.

Moving on…

Internally, I'm already planning to tell Futaba that meeting Legend was a total success and way easier than expected. Legend is a swell guy from this short exchange.

"So you're doing the fitness video thing too?" Mirko asks Legend, tilting her head with obvious curiosity while her ears twitch slightly. "Didn't peg you as the workout video type. Thought you'd be too busy with Triumvirate stuff."

"Yeah, the PR department thought it'd be excellent cross-promotion—famous New York hero meets Brockton Bay's rising star, that kind of media narrative," Legend explains casually, clearly comfortable with the business side of hero work. "Plus, I've actually been wanting to meet True Might properly ever since I saw footage of him taking down Hookwolf and the Empire gang, then tanking concentrated blaster fire without even flinching."

"Oh man, you saw that beatdown?" Mirko perks up immediately, her competitive energy rising. "I tried to join the fight but the cowards just ran with his tail tucked between his legs. Those nazi pricks didn't stand. Hookwolf tried to shred him and just broke his own blades."

"The villain was utterly vanquished by the unstoppable force of justice!" I add helpfully, striking a small pose. "The ever-growing light of righteousness protected and reinforced this selfless body! No evil can pierce the armor of justice!"

Legend grins widely, clearly enjoying my theatrical delivery. "I heard about that. Also heard through the grapevine that you somehow got somebody as rigid and serious as Armsmaster to actually smile and laugh during a patrol. That alone is probably more impressive than beating Lung."

Yeah, that definitely caught me off guard when he started enthusiastically yelling about justice and doing Kamen Rider poses with me. Real shame he got put on administrative leave after that whole Coil capture operation that was done without authorization.

A polite throat-clearing interrupts our increasingly animated conversation. We all turn to see Marcus looking slightly flushed but trying desperately to maintain his professional composure in front of three of us.

"Sorry to interrupt the introductions and catching up," he says apologetically, wringing his hands slightly, "but we do have a pretty tight schedule to keep, and we really need to continue practicing if we want to finish all the filming today. As much as I would love to spend my time here, I have other responsibilities later."

"Oh, shoot—sorry about that!" Legend immediately apologizes and quickly moves to greet Marcus properly, extending his hand professionally. "Got a bit caught up in the moment there. You must be our instructor for today?"

Marcus shakes his hand, looking slightly star-struck, then hesitates for just a second before speaking up nervously. "Actually, before we continue with the practice... would it be okay if I took a quick selfie with everyone? Because I honestly never thought I'd be teaching a fitness routine to True Might, Legend, AND Mirko all in one day, all at the same time. My family is never going to believe this."

"Sure thing!" Legend says immediately. "Always happy to make someone's day."

"Hell yeah, why not?" Mirko agrees with a competitive grin, flexing one of her arms. "Let's make it a good one."

"It would be an honor to commemorate this glorious gathering of heroes dedicated to healthy life’s choices!" I pump my fists together enthusiastically before flexing both biceps in a classic strongman pose.

So we all group together around Marcus in a tight formation—Legend and I flanking him on either side while Mirko, due to her height, jumps up slightly and positions herself in front to get properly in frame. One of her long ears pokes directly into the shot, which she adjusts with a laugh. Marcus holds up his phone with a huge smile that reaches his eyes, and we all pose together with varying degrees of dramatic flair.

The camera clicks several times in rapid succession as he takes multiple shots to make sure he got at least one good photo.

"Thank you so much, seriously," Marcus says with genuine emotion as he looks at the photos on his screen with obvious satisfaction and relief. "This is going on the wall at home for sure. Okay, now let's actually get back to business and... oh, wait, I just had an idea!"

He looks between the three of us. "With three heroes at different skill levels, we can show progression! Legend can demonstrate the easier, beginner-friendly version of the exercises for people just starting out. True Might our star can show the base form that most people should aim for. And Mirko can demonstrate the advanced, more demanding variations for people who want to really push themselves! That way everyone watching can find their appropriate level and won't feel left out or overwhelmed!"

Huh, that's actually a really smart idea from both a fitness and marketing perspective.

"Works for me," Legend agrees immediately. "I'm comfortable scaling things down."

"Perfect! I get to show off the hard stuff!" Mirko says with obvious enthusiasm, already bouncing slightly on her toes. "People are gonna see what real training looks like!"

"A most wise decision!" I boom approvingly. "Justice accommodates all levels of dedication and strength! From the smallest ember to the mightiest flame!"

We all return to our designated positions on the floor, and the practice session resumes with renewed energy—this time with three heroes instead of two, and noticeably more enthusiasm and competitive spirit filling the room.

I wonder what Futaba's going to think when she sees the final product. 

Probably something about me collecting hero friends like they're Pokemon.

--------------------------------------------------------

We were done practicing and then filming all the scenes for what felt like hours, then moved on to an extended photoshoot session which turned out to be pretty fun. At one point they actually had Mirko stand on a wooden stool just so she could be at a… decent height to Legend and me in the group shots, otherwise there would only be her head on the frame. She made jokes about it the entire time and threatened to kick us both in the shins.

As we finally exit the building into the late afternoon sun, the golden light washing over everything, Legend is the first to take the lead, reaching up to pat my shoulder in a friendly gesture.

"Great working with you today, True Might. Really enjoyed it," he says. "Let's do this again sometime—maybe a patrol together? I'd love to see that justice of yours."

I notice he's changed into his full cape costume now—the distinctive blue and white that's become iconic across the world.

"It would be an honor to fight alongside such a noble chosen warrior of justice!" I accept his invitation enthusiastically, pumping my fist.

Legend laughs warmly at my dramatic delivery, gives a final wave to both of us, then breaks into a casual sprint down the sidewalk. Within just three steps he launches himself into the air. He rises rapidly, gaining altitude until he's well above the surrounding buildings, then stops mid-air and hovers there for a moment. He turns back around to wave down at us one more time.

I wave back enthusiastically with both arms, watching as he shifts his entire body into a brilliant beam light and streaks across the sky at incredible speed, leaving a fading trail behind him?

...Did he just use his energy form just to flex on me?

Well, that was definitely something. But fun.

I wonder how people will react once the DVD is actually out for sale. Probably sell like crazy with three popular heroes on the cover.

"Our new fellow warrior of justice, Legend…" I look down at Mirko, who's watching his departure with her hands planted on her hips, and thump my chest proudly. "A true paragon of heroism and justice!"

That’s true. He had that aura on him, like natural charisma.

"Yeah, he seems like a pretty solid guy," Mirko admits, which is high praise coming from her. "Not as stuck-up as I thought he'd be, honestly. Expected more corporate hero bullshit, but he was cool. Never though a Triumvirate member would be down for this kind of thing either."

"Teaching both the young generations and the old the righteous path of healthy life choices is always a welcome endeavor!" I declare passionately. "For through dedication and perseverance, they shall be achieving glorious justice gains!"

Justice gains? Really, brain? Really?

"Yeah, I guess," Mirko says with a smirk, stretching her arms above her head in a way that makes her tank top ride up slightly. "Although that whole thing was more like a light warm-up for me, you know? I've still got plenty of energy to burn off."

She looks up at me with those striking red eyes, her expression shifting to a playful tone. "So whaddaya say, big guy? Wanna... I dunno, hang out with little ol' me some more? Just, like, the two of us. No camera crews or fitness instructors or anything like that. Just... us?"

She fidgets slightly, one of her ears twitching. "I mean, if you're not busy with hero stuff or whatever. No pressure. Just thought it might be, uh... fun? To do something that's not work-related for once?"

I just smile and reach down to pat her head, my large hand easily covering the space between her ears.

"Oi, oi, the hell you doing?!" she protests immediately, swatting at my arm with her hands. But I notice she doesn't actually pull away or duck out from under my palm.

I take that as tacit acceptance and continue the headpat for another moment before finally pulling back.

"Indeed, my valiant, heroic friend!" I boom cheerfully. "I accept your most gracious invitation with great enthusiasm! However, not at this very moment—Justice cannot afford to rest during the daylight hours when evil may strike! But this evening, when the sun sets and my patrol duties are complete, I shall gladly afford time for noble fellowship and righteous recreation!"

Fuck you, brain. Fuck you so much. That was seriously the worst possible way to phrase accepting a hangout.

Mirko looks up at me and blinks her red eyes in surprise. "Oh... oh, okay. Umm, sure, yeah. Evening works."

She pauses, clearly thinking hard about something, then her face brightens with an idea. "The beach! Yeah, the beach part of the Boardwalk with all those restaurants and food stalls and I think there are carnival games and stuff! We could just, you know, walk around, grab some food, maybe play some games or whatever. No cape stuff, no training, just... hanging out. And other stuff."

She's speaking faster than usual, which ends up with her clearing her throat. "Seven o'clock sound good with ya, big guy?"

"Indeed! It is a prime hour for such noble fellowship and righteous relaxation!"

"Cool, cool. Great. Awesome." She nods repeatedly, then finally pulls away from me, taking a few steps forward. Then she randomly kicks one leg up high before breaking into a full sprint down the street, her powerful legs carrying her away at impressive speed. "See ya tonight, big guy! Don't be late or I'll kick your ass!"

I wave after her enthusiastically until she disappears from view around a corner, her distinctive white rabbit ears the last thing I see bobbing away.

Then her words sink in and I freeze mid-wave.

Wait, a minute... didn't I just...

Oh.

Oh.

I just... I just asked her out on a date, didn't I? Or she asked me? We asked each other?

Just the two of us.

No work stuff.

The beach at night. That's... that's a date. 

That's a classic date setup.

And I agreed. In the most ridiculous justice-speech way possible.

Damn it, I'm going to make a complete fool of myself tonight. I have no idea how to act, when I can only speak in over-the-top heroic declarations. I mean, I have experience in dating but a date with this crippling hero speech? My only experience was hanging out with the claw patrol and that was more like just eating together.

Better go consult with the otaku girl first.

So with my decision made I quickly make my way to a nearby alley where I'd already set up a portal. I step through but I make a detour to my kitchen first to grab some snacks as peace offerings.

Futaba's explosive personality is significantly more mellowed out when she's fed, after all. 

Then I open another portal directly to Futaba's apartment and step through.

Except she doesn't greet me as soon as I step inside, like she usually does. In fact, she doesn't even seem to notice I've arrived at first—she's completely focused on her monitors, staring intensely at what looks like a detailed city map covered in color-coded markers and annotations, alongside a long scrolling list of data and files.

She's talking on her phone, and she sounds absolutely pissed.

"How the FUCK haven't they unmasked Coil yet?!" she shouts into the device. "There's literally nothing he can realistically do to save his ass in that cell! He's completely done for! Thinker powers are useless when you've got a fist to the face! And we took ALL his assets—the money, the resources, the mercenaries, everything!"

There's a pause as whoever's on the other end responds to her outburst.

"No—yes, I get the security protocols exist for a reason, but—" Another pause, this one longer. Her grip on the phone visibly tightens until her knuckles go white. "No, I don't—wait, WHAT? How come that's a direct order from the Director herself?! Director Costa-Brown personally issued that order?!"

Director as in Director Rebecca Costa-Brown? 

What the hell is Alexandria trying to accomplish here?

"Okay, you know what? FUCK REBECCA COSTA-BROWN! She can take her direct orders and—RRAAAAGH!"

And she throws the phone against the wall with all her strength. It shatters on impact, pieces of plastic and circuitry scattering across the floor, even leaving a visible dent in the drywall.

She's left standing there breathing hard, hands clenched into trembling fists at her sides.

Wow. I've never seen her this angry before. 

Then she turns around and spots me standing there awkwardly in her living room, and all of that concentrated rage just... vanishes from her face like someone flipped a switch.

"Oh, hey Daniel," she says with forced casualness, like she didn't just have a complete meltdown seconds ago "Didn't hear you come in. What's up?"

I blink and pull out my phone, typing quickly: 'That sounded pretty bad. What happened?'

"Ugggghhhhh, waaahhhhh, don't remind meeeee!" she groans dramatically, pulling at her orange hair with both hands in exasperation before flopping backward into her gaming chair and spinning around in circles. "This is such bullshit! Complete and utter bullshit!"

She spins a few more times before stopping to face me, looking exhausted.

"But okay, fine, you must hear this," she says, slumping in her chair further. "I just now figured out why Armsmaster was able to capture Coil so easily without any real resistance or tried to pull a fast one on us. The slimy bastard made a deal with Cauldron beforehand—probably the moment he realized we were closing in on him."

What?!

"Yeah, crazy right?" She laughs bitterly. "Obviously nobody told me this directly because why would they, but it's completely obvious when you connect all the dots and look at the patterns. I mean, Director Costa-Brown herself wouldn't be personally protecting Coil's civilian identity unless there was direct Cauldron involvement, especially with a confirmed asset like Coil since they own his ass. So I can only speculate based on what I know and what I can infer from some meta knowledge."

She spins her chair around to face her monitors again, pulling up several files. "It has to do with Coil offering them something they're always  searching for—a new, reliable way to create parahumans with predictable results. Yes, I know they have their 'infamous' vials, but as far as I remember, those are basically RNG-based lottery tickets. No real control over what powers people get, which is why they hand them out like candy to anyone willing to pay or make a deal. Because if only one percent of those vials create capes similar to someone like the Siberian or another Alexandria-tier powerhouse? Then it's all worth the investment, and they get another powerful chess piece for their secret war."

She takes a breath, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she pulls up more data.

"So with Coil here, he had access to something valuable—the Venom formula that Skidmark was somehow able to recreate and improve upon. That formula originally ONLY worked on Bane before Skidmark got his hands on it and started experimenting which caused his death. So I can reasonably assume that the new serum variant can create at least Brute 5 parahumans reliably, maybe even higher ratings with some refinement..." She pauses, her expression darkening. "So with that formula already in their hands, all Cauldron needs to do is improve and iterate on the existing formula. Not just create brutes at will, but other classifications of capes too. They could potentially decide exactly how strong they want those capes to turn out, creating custom power sets for specific situations. Then they can leverage that capability with their clients—governments, corporations, whoever's paying. And then after more testing and experimenting, they could theoretically combine all those new serums into some kind of mega-serum for creating the ultimate cape with multiple powers at maximum ratings and maybe even mass produce them for..."

She trails off, then puts her face in her hands.

"...and now I sound like Voidcowboy," she mutters. "Ugh, conspiracy theories aren't a good look on me."

'The idea has some logic to it though.' I type.

She slumps further in her chair, looking defeated. "Okay, yeah, maybe I went a little too far down the theory rabbit hole there, but the core idea remains. I have a reasonable level of certainty in that possibility, so Coil must have used that formula as leverage to negotiate favorable terms for his capture. And since Cauldron effectively owns and controls the PRT… that leverage translated into him not being unmasked publicly, and apparently no real interrogation happening either from what I've been able to gather from my contacts."

She pulls up another file, squinting at the screen. "It's frustratingly difficult to control the flow of information regarding him—they've locked down access really tight. But he apparently provided them with some kind of file or data package, and I have no idea what's actually in it. That's what's killing me—not knowing what he traded, what he gave them, what he's still hiding."

She stops herself, shaking her head vigorously. "I don't know for certain, and that just frustrates the hell out of me. I'm worried that they're going to quietly transfer him to some black site facility or maybe even give him a completely new identity and let him continue operating somewhere outside the US where we can't touch him for a long while. Just relocate the problem instead of actually solving it. Dammit, dammit, I hate this so much!"

I click my tongue. 'Maybe they didn't want to discard him yet and plan to use him for another project. But at least we know we have their approval if not their direct support, since La Doña Word is literally owned by Contessa with Rebecca Costa-Brown as its CEO.'

And they do a genuinely impressive job running that company, I have to admit. Very professional and helpful.

"Ugh, honestly?" Futaba runs her hands through her hair again, more gently this time. "Cauldron is such a confusing, contradictory bunch. I can never predict what they'll actually do versus what they should logically do. But realistically speaking, Coil isn't much of an active threat to this city anymore since with Lisa's help we took down and absorb most of his power base and infrastructure. We control his territory now, his mercenaries are scattered or captured, his money's been seized. So there are small mercies on that front, I guess."

She taps her chin thoughtfully. "I'm actually thinking about whether I should put Lisa in his former position, let her take over what's left of his organization. She's smart enough and ruthless enough to do it, definitely has the skills... but Lisa is still very immature and impulsive for that kind of responsibility. She needs more time to develop before I trust her with that much power. So I'll hold on to those reins for a while longer, keep things… errr stable."

She takes a deep breath, visibly forcing herself to calm down. "Nah, whatever. I'm just getting myself angry and stressed out over dumb things, and being angry gives me wrinkles. Not worth it."

She spins her chair back around to face me directly, her expression shifting to curious. "So what actually brings you here, Daniel? And yeah, I'm asking that again, so don't bother asking if I'm feeling okay since you already know my answer will be 'I'm fine, stop worrying.'"

I don't say anything in response, just walk over and silently hand her the bag of snacks I brought as tribute.

"Ooooh, nice! You got the good stuff!" She immediately brightens considerably, rummaging through the bag. "A Snickers bar! And Pocky! And those cheese crackers I like! You're the best, Daniel!"

'You aren't you when you're hungry, right?' I type with a slight smirk. 

She snorts loudly at the reference, and immediately tears open the Snickers wrapper, taking a big bite.

"So true though. I'm way more badass when fed," she says around the mouthful of chocolate and peanuts.

Right, I actually came here for advice. 

'I have a date. At seven. Tonight. With Mirko.'

Futaba immediately chokes violently on her Snickers, eyes going wide. She starts hacking and coughing, pounding her chest with one fist while her face turns red.

"Holy shit, for real?!" she manages to gasp out between coughs, her eyes watering. "Damn, who's the—wait, you already said. Mirko! Finally!" She coughs a few more times. "Congrats on that, dude. Seriously, cool beans. Took you long enough to make a move on our choco bunny, all things considered."

She grins wickedly as she jumps up from her chair and practically bounces over to me with mischievous energy radiating off her. "So what's the actual plan? Where are you taking her? Please tell me you have a real plan and aren't just gonna wing it while screaming about justice every five seconds. No, wait!" Her eyes suddenly light up with unholy glee, like she just remembered something important. "Oh my god, we'll finally know what you say when you have sex! This is groundbreaking research! For science!"

I just stare at her with the flattest, most deadpan expression I can possibly muster and flick her forehead with my finger.

"OW!!! Jerk!" she yelps, stumbling backward and clutching the spot. "That actually hurt, you dumb oa—"

'The beach. We're meeting at the Boardwalk at seven.'

"Oh, what a classic spot! Nice, very nice choice, Daniel." She walks back to her gaming chair and immediately curls up in it, raising her knees to hug them against her chest in that comfortable gremlin position of hers. "Very romantic with the starry sky and ocean waves and everything. But seriously, all jokes aside—what's the actual plan here? Because you realize you're gonna have to actually talk to her, right? Like, hold an actual conversation. You cannot just go around saying 'justice this' and 'justice that' for this kind of thing. That's not gonna work on a date."

I pause, thinking hard about that problem. She's right—I can't just boom about justice for an entire evening and expect it to go well.

Then I remember something important.

Reaching into my pocket space I retrieve a plastic card that's been sitting there for quite a while now.

"Hmmm, what's that?" Futaba leans forward with immediate interest, squinting at the card in my hand with curiosity.

I hold it up so she can see it properly, letting her read the text printed on it.

SR Reward: Power Switch-Off

Got it from a lootbox months ago and never had a reason to use it until now.

"Ah... wait, WHAT?!" Her eyes go comically wide as she processes what she's reading, her mouth falling open. "Did I read that right? Power switch-off? Like, turn off your powers completely?"

I nod and stare at the card again myself, reading the frustratingly simple instructions printed on the back. 'Just tear it in half. Effect lasts for one day.' That's literally all the information it provides—no detailed warnings, no fine print, no explanation of what "powers".

"Ah, so that's your plan," Futaba says slowly, her expression shifting from excited to genuinely concerned. "Go as you-you to this date instead of True Might. So no more justice energy, no hammy speeches, just... normal Daniel."

She bites her lip hard, clearly wrestling with conflicting thoughts. "But... do you really wanna use it? I mean, like, wouldn't that be kind of big gamble? More than a little risky?"

She fidgets nervously with her hair, wrapping strands around her fingers. "Cause, you know—no offense, and I really don't mean this in a shitty or hurtful way at all—but Mirko asked out True Might, not Daniel. She doesn't even know Daniel exists as a separate person. She knows the big hammy big guy who punches dragons, not the guy underneath. And I... shit, that sounds really awful when I say it out loud, doesn't it? Fuck, I feel like a terrible person now for even pointing that out."

The words hit harder than I expected them to.

'It's fine. You're just being honest.'

And she's absolutely right, as much as I don't want to admit it. Mirko asked out the hero True Might—the seven-foot-tall mountain of muscle who declares his justice at the top of his lungs and punches supervillains through buildings. She didn't ask out the scrawny orphan kid guy used to get bullied in high-school, who couldn't even defend himself.

The uncomfortable question rises in my mind: Will I revert back to that weak state when the powers turn off? Will I become that powerless teenager again?

But I stare at the card determinedly and physically shake off that concern.

I want to be normal again, even if it only lasts for a single day. I desperately want to feel what it's like to just be a regular person on a regular date, to have a normal conversation without every word being filtered through this stupid heroic speech affliction. 

To just... exist as myself for one evening. And realistically speaking, there aren't really any major active threats in the city anymore that would require my immediate intervention.With all the hero reinforcements we have now, especially with Legend personally stationed in Brockton Bay, everything should be absolutely fine if I take just one day off. Hell, not even a full day—just half a day.

Futaba presses her lips into a thin line, still clearly worried about this decision. "But, uh... Daniel? Important question here—it says 'power switch-off,' not specifically 'hero speech turn-off.' What if it just deactivates your physical powers but you're still stuck with the justice speech affliction? That's totally possible, right? The description is super vague and doesn't specify exactly what counts as a 'power.'"

I freeze completely mid-motion, my hand halfway to tearing the card.

Shit. Fuck. I... I didn't actually think of that very real possibility at all. Damn it.

'You think they rigged it to mess with me specifically?'

"I mean, it honestly wouldn't be farfetched at all, you know?" She shrugs helplessly, spreading her hands. "The company loves messing with things and creating drama, all for the sake of entertainment. They've done it before with other rewards and quests. So we really can't tell for certain what this will actually do until you use it."

I stare at the card again with new doubts forming, seriously rethinking whether I should actually do this and if it's worth the risk of potentially making things worse instead of better.

What if I end up as a normal-sized guy who still can only speak in justice declarations? That would be pathetic.

But... I also need to take this risk, because I won't ever know if I don't actually try it. And if I don't try it now, when will I? This might be my only real chance to experience normalcy again.

I look back at the shut-in with determination.

"Dammnn, okay, okay," Futaba says, reading the resolution in my expression and body language. "Let's all just hope for the best here then. Positive thinking and manifesting good outcomes and all that spiritual stuff."

I nod firmly and grip the card carefully with both hands, holding it at the perforation line where it's meant to tear.

I stare at it for a long, heavy moment, psyching myself up for whatever's about to happen. One way or another, this is going to change things for the next twenty-four hours.

Finally, I take a deep breath and tear the card cleanly in half.

The card makes a surprisingly loud CRACK sound as it splits—way louder and more dramatic than tearing thin plastic should ever be. 

And at first, nothing happens. Just heavy silence.

Then suddenly, impossibly, lightning bolts tear through reality itself—literally manifesting from nowhere, from empty air—and strike me directly. Multiple bolts of brilliant blue-white electricity that arc down from the ceiling and converge on my body. The kind of lightning that would absolutely kill a normal person instantly, turn them to charred ash.

I'm more surprised and startled than actually hurt—the electricity doesn't cause real pain, just a faint tingling sensation. 

But almost immediately after, I'm completely engulfed in a thick cloud of white smoke that billows out from nowhere, obscuring everything around me. It smells vaguely of ozone and something else I can't identify. The smoke is so dense I can't see my own hands in front of my face.

"Whaaaaa—why lightning out of nowhere?! What the hell is happening?!" I can hear Futaba's voice through the smoke. "That's—cough cough—this should have come with a goddamn warning label or something! Ugh, and it smells weird, and it's making me cough!"

I don't feel particularly different physically as the smoke swirls around me in thick coils. My vision is completely obscured by the thick cloud until gradually it begins to dissipate and thin out. The white smoke drifts away in wisps until I can finally see Futaba's apartment again.

That's when Futaba freezes completely in place, staring directly at me with her mouth hanging open. "Wow..."

She quickly takes off her thick-framed glasses, breathes heavily on both lenses to fog them up, wipes them thoroughly with the hem of her shirt, then puts them back on her face.

Then she lets out a long, low whistle of appreciation.

Confused by her reaction, I finally look down at myself to see what changed.

I'm definitely smaller than before.

I'm still tall, probably six feet at the very least based on my perspective, which is definitely above average height for a normal guy—not the towering giant. And I'm not nearly as massively muscular and built like a living tank anymore. My build is much leaner now, more athletic than bulky, with visible muscle definition not as big as comic heroes.

Interestingly, my costume has somehow automatically adjusted and resized itself perfectly to fit my new smaller frame, which is incredibly convenient.

"Holy shit, Daniel," Futaba breathes out slowly, her eyes still wide as saucers. "Like... jesus christ, wow. You're actually... wow."

She quickly looks away with a jerky motion, her cheeks turning noticeably pink and red, but I catch her stealing repeated glances back at me every few seconds like she can't help herself.

I take a deep breath, centering myself and preparing for the real test. 

The moment of truth.

"Hey Futaba," I say out loud experimentally, and my voice sounds different—lighter, younger. Not the booming theatrical voice I've had for months. "Are you gonna keep gawking at me like that, or what?"

Oh…

"Holy molly..." 

Futaba covers her mouth.

I can't help the huge grin that spreads across my face. 

--------------------------------------------------------

AN: START THE COUNTDOWN BOYS!

Also decided out of curiosity to count how many times the word JUSTICE has been used in the story and its over 800 times. I must pump up those numbers.