It’s been over a week since I found out Elton Blake is Jack’s mentor. It’s not like I didn’t want to just storm right into the lab and demand he talk to me, but I found going to him to be difficult when I was still having trouble jumping between new Penn—or as I’ve gotten used to referring to her as Felicia—and old Penn.

I have been testing my limits throughout the week though—taking on petty criminals and winning. It’s sort of weird though. I have to try to hide my identity from the people I help to the criminals to the cops. I’m not sure if I’m a wanted felon or if they appreciate the help. I’m hoping for the latter, but you never know.

It’s official that as Felicia I don’t have to wear my glasses. Like ever. I’m stronger, faster, and heal almost instantly. It really takes a lot apparently to take out new Penn. I still don’t quite understand what happened to me during the fire though. Maybe I’m fireproof? That’s still up in the air.

Even though I still have no forking idea what happened to me, I have gotten better at controlling when Felicia comes and goes. It usually involves some intense focus, but it doesn’t hurt. I just feel a little… tingly. Sometimes I feel nothing at all. It’s bizarre. Yet another thing I can’t explain. But perhaps something Professor Blake can.

But at the moment, I was just regular old Penn, watching T.V with the best roommate in the world.

My phone gave off a magical sounding ding. Sort of like the one Tinkerbell does when she points her wand at the screen in some of the older Disney movies.

Des looked at me curiously as I took a look at it.

“Oh, it’s a message from Reese.” I lit up.

“Tell him I said, hello, Petite!” she grinned.

“Will do, madam.” I saluted with two fingers before taking a look at the text.

It read: 

Attached to the message was a website link. I flipped open my laptop that was on the table, and placed in the URL. I always hated looking at sites on my phone. It always ends up being a pain to read it with my bad eyesight.

When the page loaded, it turned out to be a news article. 

I clicked on the link to see the footage, but it was grainy and the only thing you could make out were gray blurs. I let out a quiet sigh of relief but continued to gape at the article.

Seriously!? The public named me Ditto? What am I, a Pokémon? And what’s with this Copy Cat stuff? It’s not like I scaled the building, and I don’t have claws.

“Oh, this will not do…” I mumbled as I continued to give the article a hard stare.

“What will not do, Petite?” Des asked, with a curious smirk.

“Reese sent me this article about a real life superhero,” I began to explain, showing her the screen. “But what they named her is so lame! How could they allow this? From the sounds of her, it has nothing to do with anything. This must be corrected!”

Des began to laugh at me. I must have looked even more serious than I felt. She usually laughs when I make a ‘silly declaration.’ “What will you do, Petite?”

“Hello,” I pointed to the comments section. “That’s why they make these things anonymous. I’ll just… suggest something better.”

She grinned at me, turning back to the T.V. “Let me know what you come up with. I must know the proper name of our neighborhood superhero.”

I almost laughed at that. If only she realized she was right next to the vigilante.

For a while, I sat in front of my laptop, typing in what I was going to say then erasing it. Whatever I put in just didn’t seem to fit. Finally, after what must have been at least thirty minutes, I found the words that needed to be said.

I typed them in, grinning proudly.

“Ah! You have figured it out?” Des assumed correctly. “Let’s hear it, cherie.”

I blushed a bit. I was never a big fan of reading my own writing out loud. It just sounded funny to me, but I wasn’t about back down on this. If I couldn’t officially tell Des I was the hero then I could at least read her what I named myself.

I cleared my throat, pushing past my slight anxiety attack. “This name given to Cardinal City’s very own superhero is something to be desired. Whoever this masked savior may be is more than the insulting “Copy Cat” or “Ditto” the papers make her out to be. This heroine is like a whirlwind—a tumult storm. She’s a breath of fresh air to this dull, desperate metropolis. She’s a TEMPEST. Cardinal City couldn’t ask for a better time to gain a hero. And to this inquiring journalist, this isn’t Kickass. For all we know, there could be others like our local hero. Maybe they’re in hiding, and Tempest is just the first to show up. It seems like anything is possible now. Watch out people. It’s a new world. I hope you’re all prepared.”

Des gawked at me, impressed. “Wow, Penn. That is amazing! You sure told that journalist.”

“Do you think it’s too much?” I asked, getting ready to hit the submit button.

“Non! It is perfect.” She paused, thinking about it. “Tempest… I like it.”