I don't want to be here. It's not that I have anything against group therapeutic bonding or whatever, it's just I'd rather pet cats than solve a 3D jigsaw puzzle while making awkward conversation with a girl I've only just met (if within the last month counts as "just").

Actually, I'd rather pet cats any day than take part in group therapy, but it's part of the rehabilitation program so I can't skip it. (Edison also insists I can't be an extreme introvert all my life which is unfair because I am not an extreme introvert. I have, like, two confirmed friends.)

Suppressing a grimace, I grab my water bottle and take a long drink. It's slightly tart from the headache medicine but it's better than a dry throat. Inwardly, I sigh. That wasn't fair to think about Edison. He is right, I am a terribly introverted person, but isn't that expected for an amnesiac ex-villain with the social skills of a twelve-year-old? Of course I'd like cats over— Shut it, brain.

Ever since the Rehabilitation Program organizers switched out my cat time for human socialization, my inner snark has been running unchecked. It's tiring, grating on my nerves, and I am very glad none of it is coming out of my mouth.

Slotting an L-shaped piece into place, I glance out of the corner of my eye to my 'therapy partner.' Vanish (I can never remember her normal name) is deep into fiddling with three pieces—one of which I am sure doesn't fit with the others—strands of green hair screening her face. Usually, she's chatting up a storm, but right now the lull in the conversion is uncharacteristically long.

It's fine. We all have our bad days. Like me, right now.

My face fights to scrunch into a scowl and it takes glaring down the half-formed puzzle sphere to keep it neutral. Movement catches my eye and I glance to my left, meeting Edison's gaze. He smiles encouragingly. Apparently it isn't neutral enough.

Vanished clears her throat. "What do you plan to do when you're released?"

Jerking out of my thoughts, I scramble to make eye contact and look attentive. Released?

She sweeps back her hair with a flick of her hand. "You know, with your powers, specifically."

I frown. It's not when I am released, but if. Even if I don't remember it, I've committed some serious crimes ranging from kidnapping, millions of dollars' theft, and murder. On top of it all, I am an eleven. I could cause some serious damage without meaning to, and If I did mean to... The aftermath pictures of both Hero HQs I've blanked surfaces in a twisted mess of rubble, metal, and sand, and news headlines proclaiming the rebuilding time and costs. The ARGENT—the organization that handles all things heroes—still hasn't decided my fate other than "complete the villain rehabilitation program while we figure it out". Like everything else, it's complicated.

"I don't know." I run my fingers over the edge of a puzzle piece, scanning the slots and holes in the puzzle for its match. "My power is...only really good for destruction."

"Destruction is useful!" She waves a puzzle piece around, leaning back. "You could be a deconstructor—demolish houses and stuff—or become a super efficient recycler. Just think of it; you're able to return items to their original components, right? Instant reusability!" A shine lights in her eyes. "All you have to do is turn the components back into the product and bam, you can use it again!"

"If I don't lose control and destroy everything. It's happened before." Heat snaps at the heels of my words and I struggle to wrestle them down. I shouldn't snap at her. It's not a bad idea and my power isn't that out of control.

Vanish gives me a sharp smile. "Then you'll just have to get good at controlling it before you're released." She leans forwards, something I can't place glittering in her eyes. "It's all about perspective, y'know? You just have to look at the right angle to see the merit in your power."

The something in her eyes flashes mauve, there and gone before I can react. I freeze, but all she does is shrug and return to fiddling with the puzzle pieces. Was that color really there or did I imagine it? Why are we talking about powers all of a sudden? I glance at Edison, but he's deep in conversation with Vanish's Guardian and doesn't notice.

Maybe it's nothing. It's probably nothing. But something in me is screaming that's not normal and something's off. Forcing my shoulders to relax, I draw in a slow, deep breath. One, two, three, four, five. I exhale. One, two, three, four, five.

It's fine, I tell myself. I'm fine. There's no danger, I am safe here, and I don't have to be so on guard. Instincts, shut up already.

Drawing back my strings of thought from before the purple-incident, I focus my attention on finding matching puzzle pieces. My power is destructive, yes, but...it isn't all bad, as Vanish said. Maybe my powers like the Villain, Hero, and Citizen boxes; it's not necessarily bad or good and it's up to me to figure out a way to use it for the side I want to take.

I could go into demolition. That'd be great if I liked watching things fall apart at a single touch. A cold touch draws a shiver down my spine as the image of the blanked Hero HQ sneaks past my mental barriers. Yeah, no. I've had enough of destroying buildings.

Recycling, though, is not a half bad idea. I could—a loud ripping sound sounds from across the table. My head snaps up just in time to see Vanish ripping off her PowDown patch and smacking it onto my hand. The adhesive digs into my skin, but hardly any familiar power-suppressing tingle seeps in.

What in the—

Vanish leaps over the table and slams into me full force, arms wrapping around me, and sending both me and my chair crashing to the floor. My head smacks the carpet and my startled shriek turns into a pained gasp. Instinctively I thrash, shoving at the arms pinning mine to my sides and bucking. The arms tighten and hot breath follows a snarl far too close to my ear. "HEY! GET—" I snap my head around and—Vanish's face is inches from mine, a crazed, purple look in her eyes.

"GET OFF!" Edison rushes around the table, Vanish's guardian on his heels with a look so sharp it could cut through metal. He dives and grabs her arm, heaving.

The movement frees my right arm and I whip out my hand to shove her off. Vanish throws me a wicked grin, all teeth and wide eyes, not even struggling. "Fooled ya!" she cries, electricity flooding the air, and the world goes out with a surge of fizzles, sizzles, and pops.

Brightness, a brief sensation of flying far too fast to be safe, then reality slams into me like a brick wall. Ears ringing and vision swimming with dots, a scream rips from my throat—from fear, pain, or anger, I can't tell—and her grip loosens. Slamming my knee into her side as hard as I can and tearing free, I scramble to my feet and crash shoulder-first into a curved wall.

Curved wall. I blink rapidly, jerking my head around. Small chamber, too tight to land a good kick. Movement. She's getting up. Legs shaking, I shove myself upright against the wall, throwing out my completely white hands. The back of my neck burns with white hot fire, sending tingles all the way down my arms. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Vanish gets into a half crouch, hands splayed from her sides, electricity jumping between her fingers in brilliant snaps and flashes. She's breathing hard and her eyes are no longer wild, but she still grins wolfishly. "Don't be silly, Blank Slate! I'm getting us out of that wretched place. It took me long enough to find you as it is and we still have one destination to go!"

"What?" Blank Slate? Getting out of— "No! Take me back! I'm not going with you!" I am not doing this. This is not happening. I am done with Blank Slate. I am not him! I don't need to escape the RVC, I don't need to leave my brother, I don't need to be a villain! No, no, no!

Vanish narrows her eyes. "They really got to your head, huh?" She flicks back her hair, eyes flashing in the dim green light seeping from the walls, and shrugs. "Well, Viper will set you straight. Come on, we don't have much time!" She reaches out, hand still sparking.

I jerk back, sliding to the right and flinging my hands in front of me like a shield. "Don't touch me! I'll—"

"You'll what? Blank me?" She laughs, high and staccato, and lunges for my face.

With a shout, I dive right, slamming into the opposite wall. I whirl, my feet scrabbling for a hold on the smooth floor, and she collides with me, shoving both of us down. Her elbow knives into my ribs and her hand swings down towards me.

No! Instinct throws my hands up to stop hers, power brimming, brightening, strengthening— Winter explodes from the base of my neck, blanking the patch, streaking down my arms, and biting down on my fingers so hard I scream. Ice bursts from my hands, rushing out, rushing to devour and destroy. Last second, I fling them away from her, just brushing her hair, and a shower of green hits me as the air electrifies and fingers close around my neck.

Then everything explodes into light.