I wave to the intruder who just appeared in my apartment. Sophia stares at me as I completely ignore her existence for a minute. What? It's morning and the Archimedes family has made a point of appearing in places whenever they want.

"Umm, Alice. Are you, uhh, not going to react?" She peeks around the corner with expectation.

"Nope. I've learned to just accept it when one of you just shows up suddenly. It's too much of a hassle to care so much about something so trivial, you know?"

"Oh. Okay," she replies. "Do we really do that that often?" She whispers under her breath, but, due to my Enhanced Senses, I can hear her perfectly.

"Yes. You guys do that a surprisingly a lot." All while talking to her, I close my bedroom door, so that I can get changed into my hero outfit. I slip on the form-fitting fabric and feel it hug my skin tight. "I was sitting on a park bench, and your husband teleported behind me. I still don't know how he found me."

"Probably a scrying spell of some kind. Hey, Alice, do you have Mana Vision?"

"Umm, yeah? Also got Mana Sense if you want, but, uhh, don't you have Mana Vision?"

"I do," she placidly responds. "So does Thomas, but we need to confirm we aren't going crazy."

"Little late for that," I mumble. I use Mana Vision to reveal the sparse strands of mana floating in the air. I speak up, "Okay, what am I looking for?"

"How dense is the mana? Like is it blinding, umm, in an average amount, or like almost gone?" She sounds a lot more nervous now. It's like she's hoping for a specific answer and knows I'm not going to give it to her.

"It's sparse. Like only three stands are in my room," I reply as I finish changing. I open the door to see a panicked Sophia sitting in my chair. "Sophia? Are you okay?"

"No. Not at all."

"Want to tell me why?"

"Sure. So each area has a certain density of mana in the air. Higher concentrations can begin effecting technology and disrupting it's functions—which caused a major problem that my husband fixed. It also can cause animals and things to become monsters, which intelligent creatures don't have to worry about. Anyway, I'm going off on a tangent, sorry, just…tired. So, New York has a higher-than-average mana density. Sparse density means that all of the mana is going somewhere. If, and I mean if it's just diffusion, then we don't have to worry. Though, something, or someone, could be casting a large spell outside of their mana pool and is currently draining the city, which will be a huge problem because that means that people will get hurt and that means paperwork and that means—"

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

I place both hands on Sophia's shoulders. "Calm down," I command. Why is it that I have to be the responsible one now? Sophia usually took these things in stride.

"Sophia, you're usually calm and collected. What aren't you telling me?"

She stiffens up. Looking towards the ground as to not meet my eyes, she mumbles something.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you."

"So…my husband is part of the villain's guild. Apparently you made a necromancer mad."

"When did I do that?"

"When you transformed into a giant wolf and scared away all of those escaped, dungeon insects. He, umm, made those bugs escape, and he didn't like you forcing all of them back."

"So, let me get this straight. Because I did my job, I now have a vengeful necromancer doing some major spell, probably to revive a bunch of undead, and it's going to wreak havoc."

"Hmm, that sounds about right. Madman also placed an order for large amounts of brass and rose quartz, so that's probably something. Enough brass to make a couple million rings. Thomas didn't want to share anything other than the fact that the necromancer is in huge debt."

"Okay. Now, did you tell the hero's guild?"

She huffs. "Of course I did! It was the first thing I did, but they have to place the report and go through the proper channels. It'll take weeks before anything happens unless the city is attacked today, and at the rate mana is depleting I'd say something will happen soon."

Well, that's foreboding. I'm gonna be honest, I'm completely not prepared for this AT ALL. I don't even know how I would deal with—what was it? 2 million undead? Yeah. That's it.

If the undead are like the 'argh' zombies, then I can rid myself of worry for any semblance of coordination, but they will also follow any order without fail. If they do have their memories then that's a whole different package of problems. If they are forced to give up their memories, then…I don't know. Really depends on who they were in life. If not, then let's hope the dead tell no tales.

"Do we have any information about the zombies?"

"None whatsoever. We're fighting an enemy while completely blind. All we do know is that a group we call the 'B-List Villains' was recruited."

"The what?" That group sounds like it's just going to be sad. Did we name them or…?

"Yeah, they're a trio. A small gaggle that is really a bunch of washed-up adults working the life of a criminal. They aren't really fodder, but they aren't really super either. They're middle of the road, a b-list. Umm, they chose their villain names and team name themselves too."

"They were really self aware about their own abilities then, huh. I guess they get points for modesty then. Umm, so we just have to worry about this necromancer, right?"

"Correct, but the B-List Villains can still be a problem if you leave them unattended. A real splinter that gets infected. They're more dangerous the longer you leave them there."

"Sophia, any names, abilities? Anything we can use?"

"Right, we'll need that, uh… Hold on, let me remember." She scratches her head as she thinks. A blue circle of threads appears around her for a split-second and she teleports away. Then five seconds later she reappears right where she left.

"I remember now!" Sophia exclaims as if she didn't just go and definitely check her records or ask Thomas. How is it that a species makes especially for stealth, trapping, and deception can be so bad at lying. Is it because she trusts me and has no reason to make a complicated lie? Maybe it's stress.

"They're names are—"

And then the Nazi flew through the window.