My boxbots quietly crawl along with me as I march from my room to the garage, their mechanical legs pitter-pattering in sync with my steps. Given they don’t have a heat-signature, they probably shouldn’t set off the cameras… if I’m correct from my thirty-minute session of reviewing their settings.

I pass by the paintings hung up on both sides of the hallway, the sort of abstract art that Mom is a sucker for, taking them in in a vain attempt to keep my mind off of how I might have just messed up my plan before I even started it.

… too late to worry about that now! I chuckle out loud a little bit, a nervous edge in it as I glance up at the numerous orb-like cameras dotting the ceiling. Well… that’s a problem for future-Mechanism, isn’t it? I’ll probably have enough materials to make a memory-wiping ray or something, if it comes to that.

Mid-thought, I realize that I’m at the garage. I pull the floral-painted door open and take in the spacious room, filled to the brim with terrariums. I narrowly avoid stepping on a bag of dried crickets while I make my way to my Dad’s wagon, artfully painted in shades of green to resemble overlapping leaves. It’s a gift from Mom, if that wasn’t obvious.

The cumbersome wheels slow down my movement considerably, but after what feels like hours I’m finally back in my room. Putting my helmet into the wagon isn’t difficult, but the rest of the armor…

Who would have thought a giant carved chunk of aluminum, copper, tin, and zinc would be too heavy for a seventeen-year-old engineer to carry?

… surprisingly not me, which stings to admit. Alright, new plan, register my supervillain persona into the system. First problem with that idea is that you need an already authorized user present to add someone else to the system, so that idea is practically unworkable.

I giggle at the thought of practicality impeding me, of all people. I pick up the helmet with my two hands, struggling to carry its heavy weight without the carefully-engineered support of the rest of the power suit. My steps are strained as I walk over to Dad’s computer, and I’m choking in gasps by the time I’ve forced myself in front of it.

Finally, I lay it on the table with a sigh, relief flooding into me as soon as I’m free of the burden. My keystrokes are lightning-fast, breezing past the logic screen and putting me into the security operation system. I add a new guest profile, set to remove itself in twenty-four hours, and for the face…

I click on the display, which for whatever reason recognizes the power suit helmet as a potential individual to grant guest access to our house. Surprisingly advanced system for civilian security software, but… I guess Dad’s habit of never sparing any expense is gonna bite him in the ass, just this once!

With the single click of accept, a new guest profile is added amongst the sea of names. ‘Michael’, ‘mike2’, ‘vimine’, ‘vee2’, ‘moles’... Dad’s tech illiteracy is really showing here. I mean, two profiles for the same person… I love him, but he’s much more at home carving his gemstones.

Shaking my head fondly, I power off his laptop and flip it closed. When I glance back to the helmet, though… ugh, I don’t want to carry this all the way back. And then, suddenly, a lightbulb, a spark of genius flares in my brain!

I can just put on the power suit, walk over here, put the helmet on, and leave- with nobody the wiser, given the camera systems wont make a peep. After all, the Mechanism is on the guest list. Shouldn’t be a problem if she’s trapezing around the house, at least according to the cold logic of a computer.

So, with no pesky cameras to stop me, I simply walk back to my room and pull open the door of my closet. “Suit, open.” I tell it, and the voice-recognition software fires up immediately. It interprets my command after it verifies it’s my voice speaking, torso prying itself open while the legs and arms split in two. I step in backwards, settling into the padded internals… and then order it to close.

The machinery inside whirs as it clamps down on my body, pressing tightly against me. That isn’t out of the ordinary, though, given I fitted it to my exact proportions.

I crane my neck to look at the measuring tape lying on my bed, and the suit moves with me. Yes, yes… it works! I’m going to be honest, I half expected it to just… turn the other way and snap my neck in an instant. But all those hours of pouring over the code, checking the actuators, making sure the wiring wasn’t faulty… they paid off! Take that, springs10, you hack!

God damn engineering forums, that little gremlin doesn’t know half as much as I do about power suits.

My steps are, in contrast to the weak ones prior, thunderous with each impact. They’re not actually loud, given I have dampening on the soles, but the metaphysical weight of my stride isn’t lost on me. I imagine I look imposing, like a menacing supervillain- or, well, I would, if I had my helmet on.

The auto-adjustment settings for force work properly as well, given how I gingerly pushed the door open instead of smashing it down. I stomp to the table, grab the helmet in my gauntlet, and place it on my head.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

It snaps to my suit in an instant, locking together and bolting itself down. My vision is lit by a purple light for an instant, but it fades into perfect night-vision with an intricate hud listing every detail of my suit's internal status.

“Perfect!” I boom, my voice modification turning my normal teenage girl whine into a powerful, monotone bellow fit for a diabolical mechanical menace. It takes a second for me to realize I probably should scale down the volume, given I’m… right next to my parents.

Pretty sure their room is soundproofed, though- thanks, Mom. For sparing me that and for sparing me the shame of getting caught this early. I cackle internally, but refrain from actually letting it out before I slide down the volume to a speaking voice. The eye-tracking interface is a godsend, right about now.

Thanks, past Megan. Or should I say… past Mechanism? Yeah, I definitely should say past Mechanism. That’s way, way cooler. Alright, alright, Mechanism- keep it together. Your evil plan hasn’t even started yet.

It suddenly strikes me how… un-villain like it is to be walking between rooms, so I instead slink back into my room, creep over to the window, and order my boxbots to climb out with me under the cover of night.

I hoist myself over the opened window sill, wincing as I hear the crack of it beneath my weight. That’s gonna be hard to explain in the morning.

I put it out of my mind. Now isn’t time for Megan’s worries, it’s time for the Mechanism’s worries… of which there are NONE! Because the Mechanism is just that awesome, of course.

My shoulders tighten as I walk past the cameras staring in my direction, but there’s no robots trying to seize me, so I’m probably fine. My boxbots chirp and warble as we succeed in escaping the perimeter, ducking behind the fence-

“What the fuck are you doing, Megan?” the dry voice of Mr. Krills interjects, bored as it always is. When I spin to face him, I find him staring into his magazine, not even looking up as he berates me.

I flick off the voice modifier in a frenzy, desperately trying to recover this before he realizes what’s really going on. “Ah, Mr. Krills, I’m just going out to get… groceries, for Mom! Do you need anything while I’m out?” I sputter out.

“You’re going… to the supermarket. At one in the morning. To get groceries.” Mr. Krills grunts, his disbelief clear in his voice. Shit… all that effort, and I get caught by our elderly neighbor on my first day out? Do I have to threaten him? Do I-

“Yeah, alright. Have fun. Get me some coffee grounds while you’re there, and maybe I’ll consider letting you play with Bartholomew.” he mumbles, continuing to idly scan his newspaper and rock in his wooden chair.

I squeak in joy at the thought of the cute little kitty, but straighten myself into proper villainous posture. With a quick nod -that I realize he can’t see a second too late- me and my boxbots walk deeper along the fence, past his yard, and continue behind the row of houses. Nobody’ll be up right now… other than Mr. Krills, I guess, but he’s… odd.

Now, for the next step of the plan. To commit… grand theft auto. Well, that’s a generous term for what I’m going to do. The steps are simple, at least to a genius supervillain like me. Get to Ricky’s Rotors & Motor Parts, break through the garage, use my mechanical strength to carefully pry open the mid-maintenance cars, and take out the valuable parts to turn into upgrades for my power suit.

And, of course, use my inbuilt strength to leave my calling card. This theft, it’s just not high-profile enough to be a hidden scheme for the heroes to unveil the culprit of. This is a low-level crime, so it needs a calling card to make sure it adds to my rep-sheet.

The actual walk there, thankfully, is rather uneventful. No superheroes accosting me under the cover of night, no fellow dastardly criminals tipping their hats or waving me down… just a lot of walking.

I pass by yards, filled with pools, gardens, lawn chairs, or whatever else people feel like putting in there. The other side of me is a grand, unnaturally clear lake with an immaculate marble fountain in the middle of it, waves of water spitting out from the top of it in arcs. It’d be majestic, if I hadn’t seen it a thousand times before.

But, finally, we get there. Well, we get to the riskiest part of the operation. Actually entering the city that I live right next to. There might actually be people out, since it’s not an over-fifty private neighborhood, and also because it’s a city with more people per square meter than molecules.

I hug the wall of the final house on the lot, closest to the immense cityscape spilling upwards into the clouds. I spin my head to look, and my breath catches from how beautiful the sight is. Of course, I notice that my voice changer is still off when it does, which I hurriedly correct.

Neon lights illuminate the sky, metal buildings look down upon the rest of the city, and one building is instantly visible even from where I am now. The Tower. Everyone calls it that, given it’s the only tower that really means something. For good reason, since it’s the official base of every government-sponsored superhero in the city. Obviously, not many of them conglomerate in such an easy target…

But it’s still an icon. Someday… they’re going to have to defend that icon from me. Me and my legion of mechanical robots…

I snap out of my daydreaming, remembering the plan. I, of course, look both ways before I walk closer to the Mantis City gate. Wouldn’t want anybody there to see me. It’s not open, it never is, but that doesn’t matter… given I can just bend open the pitifully weak wire fence with my immense strength.

But instead of doing that, I just walk right through. The fence snaps around me, scraping against my power-suit’s aluminum-bronze outer shell in a futile effort to damage it. I don’t even react, fully trusting in its construction to handle the bare-minimum.

And then… I’m in. In the outskirts of Mantis City, in the middle of the night- actually, probably a lot later than that, given what Mr. Krills muttered. Should have coded in time-tracking, Megan, might have been helpful.

I shake my head ruefully, my good mood not soured one bit. The store is only, what, a short walk away from here? I’m so close, I can almost taste it. Well, I would be able to taste it if my suit wasn’t airtight, and my air wasn’t fed from a tank. Note to self: Add a backup in case that runs out or gets damaged so I can take in air from the environment. God, that would be an embarrassing way to go out.

A car whizzes by on the road to my right, and I flinch. Right, business time. No getting distracted. It’s time… to do some evil.