Ben was exhausted, and it was only Tuesday.

Monday was a waking nightmare for a villain in hiding as he was hounded at all hours of the day and night by the most vile, putrid careerists known to god and man: journalists. People had already dug up his entire fake backstory and gone over it with a fine-toothed comb looking for something to clickbait about. He lived in constant fear that someone would start to pick apart the facade he'd created.

It was even worse that the coordinated assault on the nation's young heroes by a hereto unheard-of villain organization was second page news to the antics of the healer hero Olympia and her new boy toy.

It was a testament to his excellent thoroughness and superb planning for nobody to realize he wasn't Benjamin D. Hersh. But there were always cracks in the armor, and Ben had to regularly remind himself he wasn't perfect and prepare a contingency.

But until some shadowy organization showed up at his door and demanded answers, he was going to continue on as bemired village councilman caught up in an unfortunate situation.

But that was becoming just as exhausting as being a supervillain used to be. His phone was piling up missed calls like the hospital during a mass casualty incident. Even at work, his computer was nearly bricked by an influx of emails, chat requests, and hackers trying to steal his personal information. The most aggravating part was letting this go unpunished because a small-time city councilman is not supposed to know how to counter-hack or pull out someone's eyes through their ears.

Driving up to work on Tuesday after getting plenty of sleep and feeling just as tired, he saw a crowd in front of the municipal building that was normally empty at eight in the morning. He could see the various recording devices these people carried and knew that he wasn't going to have any peace today.

The most difficult thing was that, in playing his role, he knew exactly what his Benjamin persona would do, but it would seriously damage his future run for mayor.

With a heavy heart, Ben pulled out his phone in the parking lot and pressed on the current mayor's contact info for a call.

"H-hello?" came a weary, just-woke-up voice.

"Mister Mayor, this is Ben," he said with breathy exasperation. "There's a crowd in front of the municipal building and I think they're here for me.... I'm sorry, I can' t do this anymore.... I need to cash in all my sick days and vacation days until this whole thing blows over."

"That's no problem," said Mayor Wilkinson. "Take off as many days as you need. We'll do paperwork our side. Oh, and if you need another week or so, I'll be sure to loan you the days."

Ahh, the small-time corruption of small-time government.

Ben figured the least he could do was announce his departure, so he got out of his car and approached the crowd.

"Everyone, my name is Ben, I'm the guy who you're all here for. I just wanted you to know, I'm leaving and I'm not coming back. That is all."

When he turned to leave, a woman dressed in a suit tailored to accentuate her chest and rear sauntered up to him with a card palmed in her hand. She looked like the word 'bureaucrat' had materialized in front of him with her perfectly straight suit, hair, shoes, glasses, face, and personality.

Sam was about to turn her down in the most country way possible (threat of violence by gun), until he actually read the business card in her hand.

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"Melissa Tannenburg," he said aloud, some horror in his voice. "Recruiting agent for the Hero Department."

"I see my reputation has preceded me," the woman offered the card with her contact information.

"You should already know what my power is," he accused while backing away slowly, not wanting to get into anything while photojournalists were around. "I just read your name on the card."

"Quite," she huffed, looking back at the mob Ben was inching away from. "Care to do this somewhere else."

"I don't want anything to do with the Hero Department," he said with hands up. "I'm not the hero type."

"I'm aware; that's not why I'm here. Have you thought of working for us in an official capacity? A desk job, maybe?"

"I'm afraid I have no blue-collar skills to speak of, besides maybe leadership."

"Managerial staff it is," she declared. "I'll start your paperwork once I get back to the office. You can start on Wednesday."

"I must decline. I quite enjoy the work I do here, and I'm not going to give it up. Goodbye."

Before the recruiter could throw out any of the classic buzzwords: making a difference, furthering the cause of justice, or being a hero for heroes' line; Ben turned and left. The reporters behind her snapped a few photos and were already sending messages to headquarters that Ben had just turned down superhero work.

When he'd gotten home, he found Idet watching some soap opera and joined her on the couch. When he had gotten relaxed, he reached down to his watch and clicked it counterclockwise a few times. He let it sit, enjoying the few miles of nature documentary he was getting an upfront view of. When he was comfortable at that range, he clicked it a few more times in the same direction, expanding his view to the nearby city and even to the next farming town out in the boonies.

He did this a few more times until he could see the entirety of the state into the nearby four. His vision was so broad, it was almost debilitating, but Ben relaxed his body and let the sensation twist him every which way. He tracked the woman he had just turned down back to her car as it was speeding along the highway and she was having a fit behind the wheel.

"TURN ME DOWN?!" she screamed to the empty passenger seat as she passed someone in the right lane. "ME!? I'll show him! I'll put him under so much paperwork that he'll come crawling to me just to be a janitor!"

Ben tracked her to a hotel just outside of the airport where she got onto a laptop and started hammering out an email. It was vague, but the former villain saw some very concerning language about making him easier to access and convincing him through circumstance. The subtext was hard to miss. He would have tracked the email to its destination, but expanding his vision any further took some preparation and Tylenol.

The recruiter flopped on her hotel mattress and scrolled through social media on her phone.

Ben quickly turned his attention back to the village and saw that the kids were in school, their parents were at work or at home, and the crowd of journalists had dispersed. He saw Hannah asking around until the Mayor came in as late as usual and informed everyone that Ben had taken days off so as not to disturb regular work. The bastard hinted that it was his gracious idea, making the former villain grind his teeth in frustration. Hannah seemed concerned and sent a text, which Ben couldn't respond to because he was busy watching her send the text.

In the reaches of his perception, he saw motion in the recruiter's hotel bedroom and flicked back to see she had stripped down to a lacy pair of underwear, which he imagined she was trying to use against him. She went over to her work laptop as a reply to her email popped up in a small chat window.

'We're on it.'

This made Ben chuckle. In his experience, the Hero Department was one of the least efficient government organizations known to man, even compared to the Department of Education, which hadn't improved education in a single meaningful metric since its inception.

Satisfied, Ben turned his power down and started brainstorming. He had been saving up all his vacation and sick days to use for his run as mayor, but that had just been axed. To make up the time he's losing, he'd have to do something more autonomous, while also making it seem plausible for his persona to achieve.

"Idet, what's our budget for this month like?" he asked the glowing ball.

"Without gas expenditures going to and from work, we'll have one-hundred thirteen dollars and twenty-six cents spare," said the synthesized voice.

"Put it all into beginner textbooks about hobbyist drone creation and operation. Find the books free online and order any recommended parts if it's within the budget to do so."

"Can I ask why?"

"Since I can't physically be more present for my run as mayor, I figure I can be there mechanically. In your research, do some math to figure out how much it would cost to get drones to light my name up in the sky."