"Where is Canary?" Megamind questioned, scanning his lair for any sign of the girl. "Didn't I ask for her assistance?"

  Minion poked his head out of the kitchen, and Megamind could tell from the chef's hat on his head and the movement of his arms that he was whisking something.

  "She stepped out to yell into a pillow."

  Why a pillow had earned her ire was unknown, but he was sure it deserved it.

  Regardless, he had another willing test subject.

  "Dinah, it's time to earn your keep. Step into the booth."

  It was largely the same booth he'd tested Canary's powers in, with a few extra additions.

  The girl stared at the box skeptically. She was dressed exclusively in Protectorate-branded clothing. It was the closest things they had in her size, though one of Canary's louder minions was near enough in stature.

  On her head was a peculiar helm. Its skeletal frame consisted of two carefully shaped steel strips—one stretching across her brow, the other arching over the top of her head. Three components were attached to it: a pair of headphones positioned on either ear, a processor secured behind the skull, and a bulb housing his proprietary power source protruding from the top. The application of such headgear was exactly how his protégé envisioned it, filtering out any questions spoken unless the mode was toggled via the remote he'd provided her.

  "And this will help me get home?" she questioned, without stepping into his contraption.

  One observation he had noted down was that she could pose questions herself without triggering her power. It struck him as arbitrary, but that was a running theme he was finding in his research.

  "Yes, of course," he stated with absolute confidence.

  Once this world had a Metro Man, then all child kidnappings would be within the bounds of civility.

  The problem he encountered was that Metro Mans didn't exactly grow on trees. A DNA sample would solve that hurdle, but he had checked thoroughly and there were none to be found.

  A hiccup like that would not stop him, and he had a solution thought up. This world had a myriad of heroes, and while individually none could stack up against Metro Man, together there was a chance.

  Obviously, he was not referring to something as barf-inducing as the power of teamwork. No, he was talking about his scientific might! He would discover how their powers ticked and then splice them into his own version of Metro Man.

  "Will it?" she asked again, but this time it was posed to Minion, who shrugged, stepping further out of the kitchen.

  Presumably, that was to better endorse his foolproof plan. Not that he needed his support.

  "I give seven-to-one odds this whole thing blows up in our faces. Canary thought it was closer to ten-to-one, Trainwreck told me to stop bothering him, and Harry actually thought it might work."

  Megamind took a moment to appreciate the fact that the only person in his inner circle, if he were to call it that, to have faith in his ploy was a former vagrant. To be fair to the man, he had also sunk that wonderful wreck in the bay, and so Megamind chose to believe that was the Harry backing him and not the one who kept raiding their fridge at inopportune times.

  "Minion, your free speaking privileges are hereby revoked," he declared, before turning to Dinah. "Don't listen to him. He was dropped often as a child."

  He needed her cooperation to gather more data on how powers work. He had readings on Trainwreck's and Canary's power, but they didn't paint nearly enough of a picture for him to work out the rest. Adding a thinker power into the mix would help him immensely. He'd already taken a DNA sample from her, but it had proven rather mundane. Thankfully, Triumph's sample was of much better use.

  "And whose fault was that?"

  Megamind didn't pay his minion's babbling any mind, waving his test subject forward. His efforts worked, and the girl slowly entered the booth, placing her hands on the wall as if afraid she might fall over.

  He shut it behind her and pulled up the terminal, double-checking to make sure all its scanners were working.

  "Everything is in order," he spoke to her through the speakers. "Are you ready to use your power?"

  She seemed to hunch in on herself, and her hands moved to her head, only to stop short. A few seconds passed before she clicked the button on her remote.

  "Ready."

  Excellent. According to what she'd told him, her power fed her images of possible realities. It sorted them into baskets and gave her an estimation of what was possible. That type of power was potent, and he understood why it would be desirable.

  Now he had the opportunity to make limited use of it himself; too many questions would overload her fragile brain. That meant he had to make them count.

  He placed his fist in front of his mouth, clearing his throat before speaking.

  "Child, child, in the booth, is there someone in the city with the potential to be at least the second greatest hero in all of the realities?"

  He was not aiming at the top here, even though part of him wished he would. Raising a better hero than Metro Man counted as a win, didn't it?

  The thought tasted bad on his tongue, and he reaffirmed his initial decision.

  Dinah took a step back, leaning on the booth for support. She didn't look comfortable, but she also wasn't wincing in pain.

  "Ninety-three point six zero seven three percent chance there is."

  Megamind clasped his hands together with a smile on his face.

  Fantastic. He was afraid he would have to go national. Sticking in an area he knew would make things much smoother. His next question was already prepared, and he asked it with anticipation.

  "Is this person currently acting as a hero?"

  Her reaction was far more muted this time, and her reply was crisp.

  "Thirty-eight point seven two two one percent chance they are."

  Hmm, there was potentially more than one? That was fascinating. Did the environment saturated with so much despair result in more potential candidates? It was possible. Heroes were meant to rise in the face of evil.

  Having choices was a boon, and he wondered about those in the Protectorate that might qualify. Vista came to mind first, with Clockblocker or Aegis second. Among the independents, no one stood out. Lady Photon was a solid hero and worthy of being looked on with disdain by him, but she missed the mark when he thought of an exceptional hero.

  Existing heroes were the fallback, and he wanted to try with fresh clay first. Fresher than Canary this time, she brought too much baggage, and it affected her even now.

  "Ooh, ooh! Let me try next!" Minion called excitedly.

  Dinah was already thumbing her remote, and Megamind turned to his minion.

  "Two questions per day, I'm afraid. Apparently, any more is taxing on her."

  Minion's enthusiasm dialed down, but he maintained a smile on his face.

  "That's too bad. Can I reserve one for tomorrow?"

  Megamind thought about the request. The value of each question was difficult to quantify. There were people who would go to great lengths to access such a power. Some of them were even willing to kidnap and drug a child for it.

  Little Dinah here had almost made herself comatose by overusing her power to stay one step ahead of those types of people.

  Technically speaking, Megamind had drugged her also, but over-the-counter painkillers weren't comparable to what they had in store. Allegedly, her power wasn't keen on details.

  "Absolutely," Megamind agreed, wondering how Coil would feel knowing the power he coveted would be used to answer which character died in next week's episode of Minion's favorite soap opera.

  Coil, Coil, Coil…

  Megamind had taken the news fairly well. He'd just finished dealing with a woman who implanted bombs in the heads of civilians and found out there was a group in the city terrorizing people over skin tones.

  Compared to that, Coil had legitimate reasons for wanting to drug a singular child.

  Not that it would save him from getting on Megamind's list.

  "Can I come out now?" Dinah asked, her hands adjusting her cap.

  Was it too heavy? Comfort hadn't been his primary objective, but if she had to walk around with it, maybe he should put further consideration into it?

  "One moment," he said, while checking the readings. Each question had generated anomalies in the data collection, which was a positive sign. It was simply a shame they were limited to two per day.

  "What a shoddy power," he muttered to himself. "I'll design a much better one."

  Activating without the user's permission was a massive hindrance. The associated headaches would have to go as well. There should be some strain, but the power should stop working at a point instead of incapacitating the host.

  He could imagine the rush a villain would feel in trying to outsmart a hero who could predict the future. It would be great fun.

  Megamind frowned as several of his scanners spiked with anomalies. He typed on the pad, seeing which ones they were specifically. They normalized after a moment, and he logged the event.

  "You can go now," he said, already walking back to his terminal.

  Powers were just one half of the equation, and he was ready to get started on the other half.

  He sat down in his chair and pulled his keyboard closer. With confirmation there were appropriate candidates in the city, he simply had to find them. There was the option of waiting for her power to refresh and asking again, but this required a more personal touch.

  Megamind typed a command, pulling up the social security numbers of every person currently residing in the city. It was over three hundred and fifty thousand.

  Age was a consideration, and he narrowed the selection to 15-18-year-olds. He did not want to deal with teens, but he had learned from teaching Canary that older students brought problems.

  That brought it down to eighteen thousand.

  Megamind tapped his finger while thinking of Metro Man. They needed a silver spoon. That would allow them to avoid silly things like a day job. He added a criterion of being a part of an upper-middle-class or higher household.

  The number dropped to three thousand.

  Was there anything else he could use? He tacked on a filter for those with criminal records, and the number dropped another hundred.

  He nearly smacked his head at the next thought. They had to be born in the city, not just current residents.

  Twenty-five hundred.

  A daunting number, and not one he could realistically go through himself.

  Thankfully, he was not called Megamind for nothing.

  He tasked a program to gather emails for all of his candidates and then opened up a blank document. Increasing the font and making it bold, he typed at the top:

  Do you have what it takes to be a hero? Take this short personality quiz to find out!

  —

  "Brutus, hurt."

  The command was simple, yet effective, and a reptilian beast lunged at him. It clamped down on his leg, pulling him off his feet. He was dragged a short distance, being jostled all the while, before it let go and went for his arm instead.

  Its canines were like daggers, and he squeezed his eyes shut as they descended on him. A hot liquid, which he knew to be a bodily fluid, ran freely over his arm. The beast wasn't satiated, and it shook with great urgency.

  Megamind grimaced but remained resolute.

  "Brutus, kill!"

  His foe offered no quarter, and he opened his eyes, being met with an open jaw.

  "Not the face!" he screamed, patting the ground with his hand. "Uncle, uncle!"

  It felt far too long before he heard a sharp whistle. The beast retreated, and Megamind lay on the floor, breathing deeply with his arms held outward.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  "You should have just let me punch you," Trainwreck grumbled, standing a bit away with his arms crossed. "Offer's still open, by the way."

  Megamind forced himself to sit upright, wiping the drool off his face. Unfortunately, he did it with the arm Brutus had slobbered on, and so it had the opposite of the intended effect.

  The problem was magnified when a wet tongue ran across his cheek. He gently pushed the dog away, being careful to watch his strength. The creature seemed to take that as encouragement, and he searched his mind for its name.

  "Judas, sit," he said, matching the tone he'd witnessed Bitch use.

  The dog complied, resting on its haunches with its mouth parted and tongue wagging out. A noise caught his attention, and he looked up to see Bitch with what he thought might have been a conflicted expression.

  Dressed in civilian clothes with a cheap mask attached to her hip, she had shown up with little warning. Minion claimed he'd informed him of The Undersider's desire for a sit-down, but he had no recollection of such an event.

  It was… strange seeing her. If he blinked, he could still see the blood staining her abdomen. She'd made zero mention of the night, and he wasn't sure how to treat her.

  Trainwreck was a more straightforward case.

  "I'll take a rain check on that," Megamind responded to him, eyeing the man's suit. It was sleeker than he remembered, more put together. "It won't currently stand up to that level of oomph."

  It wasn't designed to either, though he didn't rule out any future improvements.

  Megamind cracked his neck twice, and his newest device recognized the deactivation signal. He shivered as he felt the cool metal tendrils slither up and around his body. They converged on his chest, and he zipped open his outfit to retrieve a disk. It was removed with a satisfying pop, and he examined it for any abnormalities.

  At only a few inches wide and two centimeters thick, it was remarkably compact. That was especially so when one considered what it offered. A lightweight and easily portable exosuit for the everyday supervillain's needs. It featured a modest, yet noticeable, strength amplifier and a kinetic-sensitive barrier. The latter was where his genius truly shone. It was invisible to the naked eye and only stopped objects moving at greater than a set level of force. In practice, it meant that it would stop an armor-piercing bullet but not a rubber ball.

  One of the tendrils didn't coil correctly, and he made a note to fiddle with it later. Reducing the device's size to such a degree had less to do with necessity and more to do with implementing some innovations he'd found in Armsmaster's weapon. The next time they fought, he would not be overpowered with mere brute force.

  And he certainly wouldn't fall for that EMP trick again.

  "Ha," Trainwreck said with a grin. "I pack one hell of a haymaker, that's for sure."

  Greater than Minion's now, if his guesses were correct. Which would need rectifying.

  "What are we waiting for?" Bitch's gruff voice cut in.

  Megamind forced himself to look at her. Her shoulders were pulled back, and her dogs were sitting close to her. He noticed her hands were held loose, ready to empower her other canines should the need arise. That was sensible behavior when in the lair of a supervillain, yet it bothered him.

  "Minion's still getting the snacks, and Harry was… doing Harry things? He said he'd be here soon."

  Canary was the one to reply. She was leaning against the couch, watching them closely. It had been her suggestion to have Bitch help test her exosuit, and now he couldn't help but wonder if there were ulterior motives at play there.

  "I don't see why any of this is even necessary," Megamind provided his thoughts. "You all could have handled this amongst yourselves or via email."

  Instead, they were using his personal lair. He wasn't even involved in any of this.

  His trainee-villain snorted, clearly of a different mind.

  "Because if we don't, we'll end up fighting each other in the streets," she explained, while stifling a yawn. "Which would be a waste of time and energy. It's better if we sit down and decide who owns what now."

  That was easy. Everything in the city limits belonged to him.

  Done.

  "I got no problem bashing heads," Trainwreck said, his grin growing. "I didn't build this suit for show after all."

  Bitch's gaze hardened at that, and her lips pulled back, baring her teeth.

  "Neither do we," she said. "And my dogs get bigger than you."

  They did, and Megamind was glad that the one that used him as a chew toy had been the size of a motorcycle and not a van.

  "That a fact?" Trainwreck took a step forward, one matched by the girl. "I've got news for you, then. This isn't the biggest I got."

  That brought him pause; it might have been posturing, but the confidence displayed told him otherwise.

  Trying not to draw attention, he stole a look at the large tarp in the corner. His giant robot was all but complete now, and he was just saving it for the right occasion. He had better not be beaten to the punch by Trainwreck, of all people.

  "Stop," Canary said, pushing off the couch and placing herself between both of them. "Neither of you would be here if that's what you actually wanted."

  Trainwreck was technically in his group, but he supposed The Undersiders didn't know that. It was a bit too secretive for his taste, but he cared little of it either way.

  A tense silence followed, and it was eventually broken by Bitch.

  "I was outvoted," she said, offering nothing else.

  Trainwreck laughed at that, and Bitch's fists tightened, only to ease up when he spoke next.

  "Yeah, me too."

  The two shared a stare, and Megamind wasn't sure exactly what was communicated, but they simultaneously backed down.

  Megamind was left questioning why they would send her in the first place.

  His watch beeped, indicating another quiz had been successfully filled out. He'd made the program hide the respondents' details from him, but a score was shown.

  Megamind sighed at the sight of another failing grade.

  There were right answers to these things, and people weren't giving them. A few were somewhat close, but he wasn't settling for mediocrity here.

  "Is that…" Canary trailed off, giving him a knowing look. He nodded in confirmation. "I told you that wasn't going to work. Setting aside all the issues." She gestured in his general direction. "There. People will either think it's a joke or take it seriously and lie if there's any chance it gets them powers. Trust me."

  He was well aware of the type of reactions his survey would garner, and that was part of the filtering process. A hero had to have a burning desire for justice. It had to consume them so much that they wouldn't dare make fun of his questions. They would treat each one with the dignity they deserved.

  "What are we talking about?" Trainwreck asked, having been kept out of the loop.

  Canary shook her head, walking over to the table where they would have their meeting. She pulled out a chair while replying.

  "Trust me, you do not want to know. I woke up in the middle of the night kicking myself for not using the amnesia spray on myself when I had the chance."

  That was a vast overreaction. He, well, he didn't know exactly what he was doing, but he was already training a villain. A hero would just be the inverse of that.

  "Fair enough." Trainwreck took her warning at face value, joining her at the table. His suit lowered to the ground, leaving him still above eye level to the rest of them. "But as far as getting powers goes, people might get second thoughts if they figured they'd end up looking like me. Takes some getting used to, that's for sure."

  Were they moving now? Megamind slid into one of the free chairs before they could all be taken. He'd taken a seat and glanced at Canary when he noticed her looking away while clutching one arm with the other.

  He knew her well enough to know what that behavior meant, but he wasn't sure what had caused it. Was it Trainwreck's words? The man could be generally off-putting.

  "Yeah," Bitch followed after, sitting sideways in one of the chairs and reaching down to pet her dog. "Idiots."

  She was many things, but verbose was not one of them. Neither was stylish, and he took in the affront that was her costume.

  "You really should get something with more substance," Megamind added in the tone usually reserved for Canary's lessons. "A cheap mask and leather jacket don't make a costume."

  Bitch didn't look up at him, content to ruffle the face of her dog instead.

  "Don't care. The mask is dumb. I only bought it so the others would stop complaining."

  Secret identities were pointless, but there was a larger issue at hand here.

  "Why even call yourself a villain if you don't dress the part?" he insisted, growing slightly exasperated.

  Even Trainwreck understood that, and that was a low bar to measure against.

  "I call myself Bitch," she growled, causing him to pull back. "The villain thing is something they decided a long time ago. It doesn't make any difference to me."

  Oh.

  "That's the problem with that big brain of yours," Trainwreck said in a half-joking manner. "You overthink things. We're not villains because we dress well. We're villains because we take what we want, when we want. I don't know about the rest of you, but I have no problem with that. And it's not like any of us were ever going to end up on the other side of the fence. Between our powers"—he pointed at Canary—"our winning personalities"—Bitch was singled out next—"and good looks"—he sent a yellow smile Megamind's way—"we were always going to be villains. There's no reason to jump through a thousand hoops to live up to what you think that word stands for."

  Megamind reminded himself that Trainwreck, self-admittedly, had zero clue what he was doing at any moment in time. He just opened his mouth, and words came out.

  Yes, their identity as villains was ironclad, but it meant something. The title had purpose. If it didn't, what had he been doing all his life?

  Following his destiny.

  A destiny that his parents hadn't been able to convey, and yet he'd figured out all by himself. He was destined to be a villain, to defeat Metro Man, and to conquer Metrocity.

  A destiny he hadn't chosen.

  Megamind glanced at the gathering around the table. He stopped at Canary, who still refused to meet his or anyone else's eye.

  She had trouble accepting the brand. Truly accepting it, that is. Because even if she said the words, he knew her heart was elsewhere. It was that illusion of choice that she struggled with, thinking she had one to begin with.

  That wasn't a luxury afforded to anyone at this table.

  Perhaps, if she had been given a chance, a real chance, things might have been different.

  But that wasn't how things worked.

  His watch pinged, and he witnessed yet another failure. Another potential hero denied.

  That— was that right?

  He had designed the quiz meticulously. A true hero should pass with flying colors. However, was clicking a few buttons on a screen actually offering them a chance?

  Or was he really just taking their surface-level answers and deciding their fates callously?

  It stumped him for quite a while, and the meeting commenced without his active involvement. At a certain point, he crossed a threshold, and his mind became busy planning.

  Planning to do something his sensibilities rebelled fiercely against.

  Planning to make things fair.