The highlights of events never show what is most important, because importance is subjective. If I were watching the highlights of Tobias's funeral, for instance, I would have liked most to see the private and intimate moments between Mr. Might and a young woman whom he pretended not to know, a relationship that had developed under the noses of all reporters including, at the time, myself. If Tobias was watching the highlights, and he was, he would have liked to see Viola Mae's eulogy, because he knew it was the most meaningful, and he would have liked to see the head of his university's speech as she awarded an honorary doctorate, because he'd dedicated most of his off-duty life to his biogenetics work.

If anyone at all were watching the highlights of the funeral, and being so naïve and insensitive as to deem some moments of the grim and respectful farewell as more important than others, they would find that the "most important moments" presented were a few powerful scripted lines spoken by Vine Voodoo and Mr. Might.

"My partner and my friend Tobias was the most intelligent and selfless person I have ever known. He was called Chance when he served Benediction, saving lives like a second nature, and called Pajama Boy when we joined to appreciate his special quirks, like how he always wore his robe and slippers around the house. He was known for his power to see what was coming before it came," the broadcast buzzed. Mr. Might gripped the podium behind the fizzling screens, behind the window of the appliance store. Tobias clutched his crutch protectively in the crowd, hunched and as small as he could make himself. "This time, it came before he could see it. If there were anything that I could have done to save him, I would have sacrificed everything. I wish there had been more time."

Tobias ground his teeth, listening to the swooning whispers of the people around him. Oh, how humble. Oh, how sensitive. Oh, how brave.

What a load of bullshit, Tobias thought bitterly. The coward could have taken Tobias's twenty-five percent chance of survival and made it one-hundred, but stepping over a few geysers had just been too much to ask.

Then, there was Vine Voodoo.

"In every way, Tobias looked ordinary on the outside, but in no way was Tobias ordinary on the inside. He—"

Breaking news interrupted the broadcast with an alarming trill. The screen blacked out, then flickered with rainbow squares and, after tense seconds of beeping, finally shook out new images. There was a hush over the crowd outside the window, then cheering.

Tobias stiffened and clenched his fists, cursing under his breath.

Just outside of Central Benediction, Mr. Might and Vine Voodoo were opposing a supervillain, live on the television. It was Neville, a pom who had concealed his powers and his schemes for years in order to master volatile chemistry under the radar at a university, then later in the underground. Neville could fly, but his biggest threat was his expertise with explosives, and on the television that day, he taunted the heroes with a detonator.

The cameras zoomed at his face, which hid behind a practical gas mask, and subtitles rolled across the bottom of the screen as reporters on site recorded words that couldn't be picked up clearly by the boom sticks. "Ah, Defiance! I'm a lucky man. Here, I thought I'd find myself against an actual threat. You're nothing without Chance. Please, Mr. Super Strength, what can you do, throw something at me? And little miss flower girl? Should I watch out for falling petals? Oh dear, how dire."

Mr. Might lifted Vine Voodoo and threw her three stories upwards. Vines shot up with her from the ground and caught her in the air, pulling her to the roof of the building. Mr. Might began to scale the vines, while Vine Voodoo reared more nature to their height. Flowers and moss and thorny vines slithered up towards them.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Neville drifted higher. The subtitles on the screen followed, "My baby's rising up, now, and you can't stop her. She's brilliant. She's a masterpiece that will go down in history, and she is headed straight for heroes' Higher Defense Headquarters. What will you [censored] dogs do without your masters?"

"Neville!" Mr. Might shouted. The camera always captured his best angles, making him look bold and calm and patriotic as he stood with his fists on his hips. "This is your last chance to hand over the detonator peacefully. You have one minute before this chat become a fight."

"Oh, but, didn't you know?" Neville hung upside-down in the air, his black cape dangling. His laughter was clear in his body language, though the microphones were silent. He clutched his shaking biceps and curled up in the air. "It's already detonated. We're just biding time." He casually dropped the detonator and the cameras followed its spiral downwards, where it was smashed to pieces on impact with the road.

Mr. Might and Vine Voodoo exchanged glances, then got to work. She reared her arms back then shot her fingers out towards the flying villain. Her army of vegetation plunged into the air at full speed. He was whipped out of the sky and thrown to the roof of an opposite building where he bounced across like a rubber ball and plummeted down off the other side of it.

Crowds on cameras cheered and the gathering there in East Benediction cheered with them. Tobias shook his head. Vine Voodoo had made a bad move. The only person in their area that could deactivate Neville's bomb was likely to be Neville himself. An unconscious demolitionist was not a very useful demolitionist.

Mr. Might took a running start and leaped the gap between buildings in one powerful stride. He landed easily and pulled Vine Voodoo with him, then swung her down by a vine to sweep Neville out of the air before he could collide with the ground.

Tobias had to cover his ears at the volume of the crowd's support. He could hear his heart pounding and feel the sweat on his brow. Something was wrong. No, something would be wrong.

Neville, close to limp on the roof under the two heroes, raised a shaking black-clad arm to the sky, and his mask quivered with laughter. The microphones built into the heroes' supersuits picked up his gasping cackles, like a dust storm record played from a first-generation radio. Mr. Might and Vine Voodoo and the cameras followed his gloved fingers to the large egg-shaped mass in the sky, and the crowds everywhere gasped and were silent.

Mr. Might put one hand on Vine Voodoo's shoulder and one hand over his heart. "Take this man to justice. I'll redirect the nuke."

"Redi—" Neville wheezed. "Redirect the nuke? Redirect it? Good luck getting to it, you BLEEP-ing foot-soldier."

"Vine Voodoo, sling me."

"My pleasure."

Tobias had seen the move many times before and it was never any less reckless. No Non-typical could have more than one power. Mr. Might seemed to think he had invincibility, or perhaps that his powers of flight had just been holding back, because he always seemed to be airborne.

Catapulted from the roof, he sped through the sky until he was too high for the cameras to catch the high-definition shots of his highly defined jaw. His arms spread across the diameter of the nuke, and his fingers indented in the metal. The size of the beast dwarfed him, four to one.

A hand fell on Tobias's shoulder, and he turned his eyes away from the television.

"You found me," he remarked. He was not surprised. "How did you know it was me?"

"Hm, let me think..." Viola Mae rubbed her chin sarcastically. "Your 'face' has stared at me in my bathroom for the last few days, you have one leg and my crutch, and you're wearing clothes that I picked out. What in the name of the power source are you doing here, To—"

Tobias smacked his hand over her mouth. "Tony."

She swatted his hand away. "Tony. We agreed; no television. And here you are..."

"What's he doing?" Tobias breathed, distracted. He waved his hand for her to look and they stared at the screen with slack expressions and wide eyes.

The nuke flew off screen, turned around, and Mr. Might dropped. He landed safely in a net of long grasses and raised his fist. The public went wild. Mr. Might did it again! He saved us! He turned a nuke mid-air! He kept Higher Defense Headquarters alive! He's a hero! He's our savior!

No! Tobias's eyes bulged and he groped at Viola Mae's nicest shirt, suddenly unsteady, as though struck. She held him by his shoulders and tried to follow his eyes, but they were reading too much too fast. Danger. She'd seen him detect it enough times in the past to know that feral, frenzied look. He read visions with such immense focus and speed that his muscles all over began to quiver, until all at once, every action stopped, and he grabbed her by her arms and looked her wildly in the eyes and he breathed.

"Run."