Epilogue
Two figures dressed in Spandex dig through the rubble of collapsed floors.
The first, clad in red and black under a mop of unruly curls, turns to the second and says, “Why are we—Captain Eight, excavate!—doing this again?” Several pieces of twisted metal, far too heavy for normal human beings to move, fly onto a growing pile. “Nothing could have survived that and he’d have been squished flat.”
The other, skirting around an exposed bundle of wires, replies, “He did kinda just save the world, you know.”
“I bet he didn’t do it on purpose. Besides, he’s an asshole.”
Throwing his hands up in exasperation, the second says, “He saved your life.”
“Without my permission.”
They dig in silence until the second decides to speak. He sighs, and the neon blue and green highlights in his s
