"I should've stolen a tank shell," Dan lamented from his couch back home.

Abby sidled up beside him and bent over, planting a cup of coffee in his lap and a kiss on his cheek. "Don't steal military hardware, dear."

"Too late for that," Dan observed. "Is it breaking the law if you're working for the police? Probably should've asked that earlier."

He had, in fact, asked that earlier. He was just being dramatic.

"You're in the clear," Abby reassured him again. "The legality is dubious at best. Technically it's villain salvage."

"Villain salvage?"

Abby hummed as she planted herself beside him on the couch. "Kinda like civil asset forfeiture, just more specific. The seizure of technology or assets from villains by state and federal agencies for their own use."

Dan frowned at her, and pointed out, "The stuff I moved belonged to the National Guard. I guess you could argue they acted like villains, but that seems unlikely to hold up in court."

Abby snorted, shaking her head. "No, not likely. Not that the NG would ever press the issue. They're still getting flayed in the press over their performance here. They won't risk bringing it all back up over a few armored vehicles and some guns. But even if they would, the moment they abandoned that equipment to Coldeyes' power, it technically became villain salvage."

"So them failing to retrieve it before leaving the city is like, what? Implied surrender of goods?" Dan asked.

"Essentially."

"And legally seizable by any government organization capable of doing so?"

"Just so," Abby confirmed.

"That's a little strange," Dan noted.

Abby grimaced, and with a groan, she flopped across the couch. Her feet ended up in Dan's lap, and he raised his mug of coffee accommodatingly. She blew out a gusty sigh, and admitted, "I'm pretty sure it had something to do with the Genius upgrade."

Dan frowned at her. "How so?"

Abby grimaced. "Well... it's no secret that Geniuses made a lot of irreplaceable, unreproducible tech. Not all of it was for the federal government. There were quite a few smaller cities who had Genius tech of their own, either in their police force or in private hands, and they weren't about to share it with the feds. The law is presented as equal opportunity, but realistically..."

"Realistically," Dan finished for her, "the feds come in after the fact, taking with them any tech that either side has expended."

Abby shrugged. "Most surviving Genius tech is in the hands of the federal government or private citizens."

"I'm surprised they didn't just outlaw Genius tech entirely," Dan said, taking a sip of his coffee.

Abby stared up at the ceiling, her arms crossed behind her head. She sighed again. "It's impossible. There are a number of very powerful, very influential companies and individuals who used Genius technology as a foothold into their market of choice."

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"In other words, it's your grandmother's fault," Dan translated.

"Probably," Abby admitted. "In part, at least."

"Well then." Dan squeezed her ankle. "I still think I should've taken a souvenir. Legal or not. Something useful, like a car."

Abby giggled. "Can you imagine parking one of those armored transports in our garage? It's ass would hang out into the street!"

"The neighbors would be furious," Dan agreed. He paused, reconsidered that statement, then asked, "Do we still have neighbors?"

"One or two, I think." Abby tapped her lip, and added, "On the block, at least."

They laughed at that, and were silent for a time. Abby lay on the couch, eyes closed, as Dan massaged her feet and sipped at his coffee. Minutes passed, until Dan asked a lingering question.

"Thing I don't get? Why bother keeping it a secret?"

"What?" Abby blinked at him, then caught on. "The move?"

"Yeah." Dan nodded. "If it's all on the up-and-up, why bother keeping it a secret? Why use me, and not Gregoir? It's not like there was any Genius tech in that mess. Just standard military crap."

Abby pursed her lips, brow furrowing. She considered it for a while, before admitting, "I don't know. You didn't ask?"

"It didn't seem appropriate," Dan said, with an awkward shrug.

"It didn't seem appropriate?" she echoed incredulously.

Dan shifted uncomfortably. "Well... yeah? What if it was one of those, 'if I tell you I'll have to kill you' type secrets?"

Abby laughed at him, and he threw up his hands in protest.

"I don't know how to handle this shady shit!" he exclaimed. "How am I supposed to ask that kind of question? Once I realized they were serious, I just shut up and did my job."

She continued to laugh at him. He huffed, and pushed her legs off his lap.

----------------------------------------

Dan had mostly dismissed Gregoir's talks of vigilantes appearing in Austin, along with his resolve to recruit them. The big man had a boundless sense of optimism that was in no way constrained by reality. If Gregoir felt it likely that he could wrangle up some teenage do-gooders, then Dan automatically assumed that that was the least likely outcome.

He caught sight of his first vigilante in Austin the very next day.

The teenager, and it was very obviously a teenager, wore a poorly fit spandex outfit as he patrolled a public park, not far from the University of Texas campus. The costumed... person? In retrospect, Dan wasn't sure he could call this kid a vigilante. He wasn't actually doing much. In the brief period of time since Dan had been watching, the teenager had done little more than walk a wide circle around the park.

The presence of a person in a costume had obviously drawn attention, but the park was mostly occupied by college students. Said students were either more tolerant of heroic antics, or were more informed about the trending vigilante scene on social media. Some took videos, others avoided the young man, and some threw him disapproving looks. A few stopped, talked with him, gave him high-fives and took pictures. Dan watched it all from a bench near the center of the park.

He'd come here by pure accident. Dan had been working on expanding his knowledge of the city. He could teleport places he'd never been before, but with portals becoming an option, he wanted to know exactly what kind of terrain he was dealing with. This park was wide, flat, and open. It was big, and the college was the only thing close to it of note. Dan reckoned if he dropped somebody into this park, he could hit them without really worrying about collateral damage.

Of course, he'd never actually do that. The place was packed with civilians, and he doubted that ever changed. He mostly just wanted options. His power lay in his versatility. The broader his knowledge, the more flexible his responses could be. He hadn't known if this park would prove useful to him, but a thirty second trip to look around was hardly a great burden on his time.

Thirty seconds had bloomed into almost half an hour, as Dan observed the costumed teen go about his business. He didn't seem malicious, and neither did he bask in the attention that he received. Once, he climbed a tree to fetch a frisbee that had been lost to its boughs. He'd returned it, given the owner's dog a pat on the head, and gone about his business. The young man really seemed genuine in his desire to help. Dan almost regretted what he was about to inflict on this well-meaning stranger.

He took a picture of the vigilante on his phone, then sent it to Gregoir.