The train he took from Jethro stopped in Manhattan. Phoenix maneuvered through the station's crowd as he headed toward the connection to Queens. The abundance of people usually comforted him, but after all that happened, he only wanted peace and quiet.

He called Kate right as he got into the train. Surprisingly, she picked up on the first ring. He heard her sigh, and he could picture her rubbing her temples, preparing for a headache.

"Let's hear it," she said.

"What makes you think there's something bad to hear?" he asked.

"Because despite you being done with anything League-related, you called me on the same night Tara took you to Jethro, and you're calling me now. There's no way this is just a friendly check-in."

The train started moving. He found it funny that the other riders had no idea he was talking to a high-clearance superhero agent who was likely sitting at League headquarters and trying to figure out how to not let the world end.

"You're right," he admitted. "I do have to tell you something, but I hope you're well."

"As well as I can be. Sorry I missed your calls. So, what is it?"

"Yesterday, after I gave Director Diop my report, I ran into Crimson, and-"

"Hold on!" Kate interrupted, making him jump in his seat. "What do you mean, you ran into Crimson?"

He blinked. "I was just walking on the sidewalk, and I bumped into someone, and it turned out to be him."

"And then you kept walking, right?" she asked. "You pretended you didn't see him, and you walked away?"

Phoenix smiled at her concern. He appreciated it, even though it made him feel like an idiot. Which he was. She had every right to expect him to not engage.

"No," he said. "Sorry. I followed him, and then Violet showed up, and...I'm okay, Kate, I promise. Violet asked me to warn you guys that Azure and someone called Ravager are planning something bad, and Electra may be joining them."

"Azure? Does this mean the Snakes disbanded?"

Phoenix recalled Violet's face when he asked what happened. "It seemed like it. She also said that Black and Amara are completely out of the picture."

Kate let out a deep breath. "Alright," she said, uneasy. "This isn't good, but I'm glad we know. Thank you. Is there anything else?"

The wheels screeched against the tracks during a turn, and Phoenix waited until it was over. "I found something out," he said quietly. "About my family. My parents left a video explaining what happened. I ran into their friend's son, Mason Walker, and he gave it to me."

"Mason Walker?" Kate repeated. "As in, of Walker Technologies? That Mason Walker?"

"The very one."

"You're telling me that, in a city of millions of people, you just happened to run into the Snakes and Mason Walker, on the same day?"

It was unbelievable when it happened, and it sounded crazier said out loud. "I swear," he sighed, "it's true. I guess I'm lucky."

"That depends. What you found out...is it good news?"

Phoenix's hand tightened around his phone. He'd asked himself the same question a million times on the way here, and he still didn't have an answer. "Jack and Eleanor were stolen when they were a few months old," he said. "My parents searched, but they never found them. Then they quit the League permanently to protect the family."

There was a moment of silence, and then Kate repeated, "They never found them."

The implication was clear. "No," he said tightly.

The train was at his stop, but Phoenix didn't get off. He wasn't ready. He sunk further into the seat and leaned his head back, staring up at the fluorescent lights.

Kate cleared her throat. "The intelligence team opened an investigation when they found the birth certificates. I'll update them on what you've told me. Send me the video, and I'll forward it to them, too." She paused. "I don't think this investigation is high on their list. I don't know how much time or people they're devoting to it, if they are at all, but I'll let you know if they find anything."

"It's okay. And thank you."

"You're welcome. Take care of yourself."

Phoenix hung up. The train was looping back around. He'd traveled this line hundreds of times. He'd probably sat in this exact car at some point, maybe even in this exact seat. He recognized every stop that flew by, every turn, every screech. It was the same. What was different now was that he was aware he was the youngest of four children. What was different now was that he might not be the only living member of his family.

He buried his face in his hands, but he didn't cry. He didn't know how to feel. From the moment he saw those birth certificates, he imagined that the truth, if he ever found it, would be freeing. It would be relieving.

But the video only gave him a piece of the truth.

And now...he needed to find the rest of it.

..................................

Several hours of sleep later, Phoenix walked into Tony's Auto Storage. His own keys felt foreign in his hands.

"I thought you'd never come back for it," Tony exclaimed through the window as he drove Phoenix's car out of its spot and toward the exit.

Phoenix didn't think he'd come back for it, either.

He was sixteen when their parents died. Alexa was nineteen, living in and attending college in New York City. With their home burned to the ground and him still a minor, their only option to stay together was for her to become his legal guardian and for him to live with her in the city while she finished her degree. He'd felt guilty because she was supposed to be focusing on her education and having fun with her friends, not juggling those things with being responsible for him. He never told her this—she'd be offended, and it wasn't like he had anywhere else to go, anyway, so it was irrational to feel guilty—but she must've sensed it. The only thing she said when they looked up at their new apartment building together was I love you and I want you here.

Two years later, the accident totaled Alexa's car and Alexa herself. The truck rammed directly into the driver's side: she suffered broken bones and internal bleeding, but it was the broken neck that killed her. And Phoenix, who was sitting in the passenger seat? He woke up in the hospital with only a concussion and some minor cuts and bruises, thinking, oh God, I'm alone, because he knew his sister was dead even before they told him.

He saw her head snap violently to the side.

Alexa went in the ground, her car went to the junkyard, and Phoenix found himself unable to drive. It wasn't anything physical; he was healed within a month. His hands, his feet, his eyes were fine. His license was fine. He wasn't afraid of the road, or of trucks.

He just...couldn't drive. He couldn't even bring himself to turn the ignition. He checked his own car into storage, and he hadn't driven since.

"I changed the oil, pumped the tires, and charged the battery," Tony listed as he got out. "Should be good to go."

"Thanks."

Tony left him there, and Phoenix stood observing his car. It was his mom's until the fire, and then it was his. It hadn't even sat in storage long enough for its registration or his license to expire, but it felt like it had been decades.

Phoenix slowly got in the driver's seat. There was no violent flashback, only an eerie silence as he sat there, staring at the wheel. This was how it had happened. After the concussion went away and he was cleared by the doctor, he'd sat staring at the wheel, realizing over the course of an hour that he just couldn't do it.

But he had to now.

He'd gotten through the last year without the car because he already understood New York City, he knew its trains. He'd been living here with Alexa since the fire.

Jethro was a different story.

If he was going to do what he planned to do in Jethro, he needed his own reliable transportation. He couldn't depend on that city, not when he didn't know it, and not when he did know of its many, many problems.

His plan was underdeveloped. He had no clue if anything real would come of it. In the future, he might look back and laugh at himself for thinking this would work, but he had to try.

Phoenix took a deep breath, started the car, and pulled into the street. He drove in circles around the block until he got the hang of it again, his grip on the steering wheel easing.

Then he headed south.

.........................

Mason Walker's address wasn't online, but Phoenix found the house by using what he remembered and Google maps. As he went along the driveway, he questioned again why they didn't have a gate. It made him wonder what kind of state-of-the-art security was set up.

The car from the alley and the car Sofia used to drive him to the station were both parked in front of the garage, and Phoenix parked behind them. He hesitated before going up to the front door and knocking.

Sofia answered, wearing classy clothes similar to what she wore in the alley. "Hello again!" she said brightly.

"Are you going somewhere?" he asked.

"In a few minutes. Don't worry about it."

She ushered him inside. Most of the mansion's lights were off, and the curtains were drawn. It felt like sunset even though it was only six. Phoenix followed her into the kitchen, where Walker was tying his tie using his reflection in the refrigerator. There was a package of cold medicine on the counter.

"If you guys have plans," Phoenix said, "I can leave. It's not important."

Walker shook his head. "No, no. We don't have to leave for..." He checked his watch and winced. "We were supposed to leave ten minutes ago. Ah, Sofia?"

She shot him a severe look, raising both eyebrows.

"Maybe," Walker said, drawing his words out, "my presence is not needed?"

"Of course it's not needed," she chided. "After the argument at the banquet? I think he'd prefer to never see your face again. I can handle it on my own."

He immediately took off his tie. "Thanks. I'm sorry I made you late."

Sofia waved him off. She clapped twice, turning on the overhead lights, and picked up her purse. "I'll be back in a few hours."

After she was gone, Walker downed some of the cold medicine, making a face. "What can I do for you?" he asked.

"I haven't even given you a hint on why I'm here," Phoenix said, "yet you were willing to skip an obligation for me. Why?"

"I can tell you need something. If it's weird to you that I care, well, don't overthink it. Sometimes life gives you lemons before you know what a lemon even is."

Phoenix blinked. Walker couldn't still be that sick, but he barely understood what he was getting at. "What was the argument at the banquet about?" he asked.

"Underfunded rails. He said it's not an issue, and money is better spent on the public parks fund that I'm pretty sure is a front for something else. I said that a train's going to crash because of how awful the tracks are, and he'll be the first to complain and point fingers."

"And you said this to his face?"

"Sure did." Walker grinned. "That's why Sofia doesn't like it when I have the taser with me. She's afraid I'll use it on people like him. But, I shouldn't be ranting, and you shouldn't have stalled by redirecting me with that question. I ask again, what can I do for you?"

"I'm joining a gang."

Walker froze. It was comical, the way his smile fell. "What?"

"You said it yourself, the city's full of connections," Phoenix explained. "Someone here might know something, anything, about what happened to my family or where Jack and Eleanor are. The only way to find out is to dive right into the network, and what better way to do that than by joining a gang?"

"This city's connections aren't something you want to be involved with," Walker insisted. "It's dangerous."

Phoenix held up his hand and floated the package of cold medicine into a cabinet. "I've got telekinesis to protect me."

It didn't seem to appease Walker at all. He shook his head, mumbling his disagreements with his hand against his mouth.

Phoenix took a step back. "I didn't come here for your approval, or your help. I only wanted to let you know what I'm doing so you don't see me and think I've gone to the dark side." He turned around to leave, adding over his shoulder, "The last thing I need is to get noticed and arrested by Nightwalker."

"No, wait." Walker took a deep breath and sighed. "If you're going to do this, I'd rather you do it with my guidance than on your own."

Phoenix walked back into the kitchen. He really hadn't expected help; he'd feel guilty asking a busy superhero to guide him through his half-baked plans. "I meant what I said," he insisted. "I only came to tell you. You don't owe me your help."

"I know you meant what you said. That's the kind of thoughtfulness that gets people in trouble here." Walker leaned on the counter, tapping his fingers on the marble. "I'll help you," he said quietly, "but you've got to know how slim the odds are of finding anything after so much time has passed."

It had been three years since the fire, and a little over twenty-three years since Jack and Eleanor went missing. Any detective would call those mysteries a lost cause...but Phoenix wasn't a detective. He was just a teenager who had enough hope in his heart to try.

"I know," he said finally, "but even after all this time, I got the video, didn't I? However small, there's a chance, and it's not only about my family. Azure and Ravager could be in Jethro, and if I can find anything about them, too, then that would help you and the League."

Walker watched him for a moment, but ultimately, he nodded. "I understand. Come on, we've got some planning to do."

Phoenix followed him into the pantry-elevator, and they descended to the basement. Walker sat at the computer and brought everything up on the big screens. There was a map of Jethro similar to Google's, labeled with normal things like bridges and buildings, but he removed that layer to show a different one labeled with not-normal things like murder sites, territory outlines, and areas of 'interest'.

"There're more criminal groups than I care to name," Walker said. "Gangs, ethnic mafia families, cartels, drug rings, et cetera. The Nameless and the Red Tide are the prominent ones because there are a lot of them, and they do everything imaginable. From drug dealing for councilmen to extorting a fry cook for his gambling habits, if it has any benefit, they'll do it."

"And you think I should join one of these two?" Phoenix asked, watching as Walker scrolled through dozens of pictures, headlines, and police reports.

"They're so big, it'll be easier for you to go relatively unnoticed. You'll be a small cog in their bloated machine. I think the Nameless is the better bet." He brought up a fuzzy picture of a woman entering a business plaza.

"Why the Nameless?" Phoenix asked.

"Because the Red Tide's right-hand is the dumbest man I've had the displeasure of meeting." Walker shook his head. "But not dumb enough to implicate himself, unfortunately. If you're going to find anything, it'll be from the Nameless."

Phoenix pointed at the picture. "I'll find the right-hand there?"

"Only on Tuesdays from two to eight." Walker paused. "Do you realize that to earn their trust, you'll have to partake in their activities? Which is crime?"

"I'll talk my way out of it." Phoenix tapped the side of his head and winked. "If that fails, I'll mind-control my way out of it."

Walker stared at him. "Jesus, kid. You have mind control?" He laughed. "Lead with that."

..........................

"Where're you going?"

Phoenix stopped walking and backtracked to the attendant's desk. "The insurance agent's office," he said innocently. "The sign says she's on the second floor."

The attendant glanced at the crooked lighting, the stained linoleum floors, and the peeling wallpaper that made up the foyer of this business plaza building whose anchor store was a pest control specialist with an ant swarm at the door. Phoenix knew what the attendant was thinking: Seriously? Here?

"Alright," she mumbled.

Phoenix went up to the second floor and knocked. He was met with silence, so he knocked again.

"Come in," said an irritated voice.

He opened the door and smiled brightly at Sharmistha Kapoor. She studied him from head to toe, obviously deciding she didn't know him, and returned her attention to her laptop.

"Was the sorry state of the building not deterrent enough?" she asked flatly.

Phoenix blinked. "What do you mean?"

"There's a better agency across the street."

"But I'm already here."

"I don't think I have the policy you're looking for."

"I haven't told you what policy I want."

Phoenix sat in the chair across from her. For about a minute, the only sound was the clicking of her fingers against the keyboard and the steady drip from a leak in the ceiling.

"You know," he said slowly, "you're being so reluctant, I'm starting to think insurance is just a front for what you actually do."

Sharmistha raised her eyes from her screen to him, completely deadpan as she asked, "And what is it that you think I actually do?"

Phoenix met her stare calmly. "You're the right-hand of the Nameless."

Her laptop made a notification sound, but she didn't look at it. She kept her focus on Phoenix as she closed it. "What do you want?"

"I want to join."

"The Nameless isn't a job mill. We don't hand out assignments to anyone who asks. You've got to be useful." She leaned back in her chair. "Do you have connections to important people?"

"No."

"Are you rich?"

"No."

"Do you deal drugs or other valuable assets?"

"No."

"Do you have dirt on our competition?"

"No."

Sharmistha smiled. "Then why on Earth would we want you?"

Using two fingers to direct the motion, Phoenix telekinetically lifted the stapler from her desk, held it in the air, and put it down. Sharmistha stared at it.

"The Red Tide has a superhuman," he said. "Ribbon Girl. But the Nameless?" He shook his head.

"What's your name?" she asked bluntly.

"Nick."

"Last name?"

Phoenix tilted his head. "Do you want to see my ID?"

Anger flashed across her face at the callout of her obvious distrust. "I would."

He handed over the fake license Walker made for him.

"Your address is in Vermont," she pointed out.

"I'm from Vermont."

"So where are you staying in Jethro?"

"A motel."

"Which motel?"

"A different one every night."

Her eyes narrowed in frustration, but Phoenix didn't offer more details. He was following Walker's advice: he was going to answer her questions, but with as little information as possible or with simple lies.

"Why do you want to join the Nameless?"

"For information," he explained. "I'm trying to find something.

"What kind of information?"

"Nothing that's of interest to anyone but me."

"And while you're using our connections to figure out your own problems," she asked, "what will you be doing for us, exactly?"

"For the time being, a trial run. Simple tasks. And when we're all comfortable with each other..." This time, Phoenix lifted the entire desk. "You can use me for bigger things. But I do think, for your sake and mine, that you shouldn't go advertising your new asset."

He gently put down the desk. He didn't care if the show of his power came off as an incentive or as a threat. Either would be effective.

"You've come at a weird time," Sharmistha mused, offering no hints about what was weird about the timing, "but I won't pass up a superhuman. Leave me your number."

Phoenix gave her the number of the burner phone Walker gave him. As she read it back to check if she wrote it down correctly, he couldn't help but wonder how many people started off like this, walking the edges of Jethro's cesspit in pursuit of a single goal, only to end up sucked in and trapped.

His stint with the Nameless would be temporary. He was sure of it. Even hours later, when he was sitting in the motel and staring up at the ceiling, his confidence in his plan didn't waver, but he knew Walker was right. This was dangerous.

Something would come of it. Hopefully, something good.

...........................

When Sofia got home, Phoenix's car was gone. She went down to the basement, where Walker was toying with his watch and a screwdriver. It was a good thing he'd elected to stay behind. She was going to suggest it herself, but she'd thought it would make him want to tase the guy even more.

"Where's Phoenix?" she asked.

"Joining a gang."

She laughed, slouching into a seat with a tired huff. Walker just looked at her.

She straightened, alarmed. "You weren't joking? He's actually joining a gang?"

"Yes, but in other news," he said quickly, "they caught Hildebrand."

Martin Hildebrand had been wreaking havoc in Jethro by breaking into people's homes and harvesting their organs while they were alive. He only cut out one-usually the liver-before they died of blood loss and shock.

"That's good," Sofia said lightly.

"Yeah." Walker was equally quiet. "That's good."

It was good he was caught, but the arrest placed him and his deviant habits directly in the spotlight. Violent, unique crimes like his tended to get the wrong people riled up.

And if Crime Night was happening soon, then things were about to get a lot more complicated.