My call picks up barely after half a ring.

"Hey," Burner says from the other end. His voice is quiet, which is unusual. Gravelly, which is not, when he's just been woken up. "What's up? Everything okay? You're awake super early."

"Had a demotivating first day at work yesterday so I just pulled an all-nighter," I say. Headache is not going away, so I get up to the kitchen to rummage in my shelves for my universal box of medicine. "Kind of feeling a little unsettled. Just need to snap back into me right now." Box out, painkillers found. "You free for breakfast? Or you got company over? It can wait, no problem."

"Got Lockdown," Burner says. I can hear the rustle of sheets on the other end, some soft murmurs. "Yeah, it's River," I hear, fainter. Another murmur. "Yeah. Bad day at work. Nah, nothing you need to worry about."

Relief washes over me, as much as I feel a little funny that Burner is so casually sharing what's going with a superhero he wants to be in his life permanently. Wow. I pop open the bottle and slide out a tablet into my palm, before I put it back in the box. "Lockdown came over last night?"

"Yeah." Another moment of murmurs, and Burner's big chuckle. He has a soothing way of it when he's relaxed. It booms a little in his chest. "Personally, I think the only reason he did was because you cared enough to hack, but he also--" His voice slips away to soft murmuring and another Burner chuckle. Burner's voice gets a little clearer again when he moves his phone next to his mouth. "Says to tell you that if you do it ever again, he will break every bone in your body."

I find a hopefully clean cup, rinse it out, and fill it with fresh water. "Tell him I'll try to avoid it." The box, I put back into the shelf and close the cabinet door over it.

Burner's voice gets faint. "River says they'll try to avoid it." He laughs again. Voice comes clearer. "He went back to sleep. I'm all yours for breakfast, in about...say half an hour? Have to do the whole shower, shave, and dress thing."

I nod. Then I remember Burner can't see the nod. "Sure." I take the tablet with water and swallow.

"Awesome," Burner says. "Meet at the regular joint?"

"You know it."

Burner's favourite place to eat is a little hole-in-the-wall breakfast diner not too far from where I live, so I decide to go on foot. Once I've locked up (Wes should be able to relock everything with her spare key if she needs to go anywhere), I speed down the emergency stairs at the end of the corridor with some cash in my pocket.

Outside the doors, a summoned guardian familiar sits on the front cement steps of the complex. The physical top hat tying it to this plane is patched and worn, a testament to its age since renewal. Its half-transparent shadowy form turns and nods at me as I slip by; it's one of the few that belong to the landlord, a retired witch.

"I'll be back around six," I tell the solid white eyes blinking under the brim. "Keep up the good work, Freddy."

The black blob shape coos at me as I leave, making bubbling sounds. Don't really understand how something so cute can belong to someone so scary, but I guess we all have our preferences.

It's strange to walk in public knowing that you're an official supervillain. The populace continues to swarm around you during peak times, getting to their own place, but it's only when you're up and causing trouble that they'll notice you. Some could say the only difference between you and them is the license in your pocket.

I wonder, briefly, what it would feel like to be known by sight alone.

Anticipation brims in me.

Burner arrives at the Chum Bums only a few minutes after I've finished scanning through the sticky plastic menus and just ordering what we usually do anyway. He slides into the booth, jolly looking among the red and orange colour-scheme of the place despite the early hour. "Morning."

"Morning," I say. "Your muscular heart attack foods will arrive soon, heathen. For now, have your coffee as milked as your cows."

"Thanks," he says, taking a huge gulp out of it, not even flinching at the hot temperature. "And I'm suspecting you've ordered some pancakes without pancake syrup again, you weirdo. Also, why are you drinking water?"

"I don't like how sweet it gets," I say, defensive. "And I'm on a cleanse."

"You order juice at every meal long since before I've ever known you," Burner says. "Try again."

"I'm replenishing my liquids supply after crying it all out on a rooftop and at home."

"Yikes." Burner whistles. "What happened on the first day? You accidentally looked at someone's porn search history?"

I'm glad I have Wes and Burner. Not sure what I'd do to process all my feelings if I didn't have them to talk it all out with. "Do you know the Sentinel?"

"Not personally, but I've heard of them, yeah," Burner says, taking another gulp of scalding coffee. "From Central city. Place is practically teeming with supers, so I'm not surprised some of the better ones have moved somewhere else. So the Sentinel's permanently here and into some kinky stuff?"

"I hacked into the Sentinel and they--" This was the part I had trouble reconciling myself with. "--were going to kill me for it."

Burner puts down his coffee. "Shit, man," he says, empathetically. "You okay?"

"Wes healed me up, so yeah. They said a lot of other stuff I got upset about, but I've talked over it with Wes, so you don't need to worry about that either."

"River." Burner looks me in the eyes. "Are you okay? I need to hear it from you."

I shrug. I tap the side of my water with a fingernail. "I didn't tell Wes this," I say, "but off the record? The Sentinel’s...I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking.”

"What do you mean?”

"Core's got nothing," I say. "It's empty." I'm staring straight at the poster on the side of the diner wall. It's been here about, what? Even long before Burner and I ever found out about it. It's dirty and sun-faded and talks about the same 10.99 Breakfast Special for Two they've been serving for years. "But the internal programming is overrun with malware and unstable software issues. I’ve never seen anything so clearly advanced so...traumatized.”

"What's that mean in regular human speech?" Burner asks.

"I gave it to you in human speech," I say. "I might be Chinese, Burner, but I am absolutely not smart enough for fancy words."

"Okay," Burner clarifies. "Is that good or is it bad, then?”

"I don't know," I say, frustrated. “I don't know how it happened, or what they're trying to do about it. It's just... Burner. Is it bad I want to find out?"