Dinah Alcott was having a decidedly off day.

For the average twelve year old, an ‘off’ day usually consisted of a scraped knee, a close friend ‘being a butt’, or a parent committing the unspeakable crime of ‘being mean’. Perhaps if Dinah were an average child, these might be of her concerns.

Dinah Alcott was not an average child. Being the niece of the Mayor meant a certain amount of attention was at the feet of her parents, which in itself led to a harsh degree of stress. One would assume that a normal lawyer married to a normal dean of justice would not be allowed their own privacy. One would assume that with all the cape activity in Brockton Bay people would have more interesting gossip to focus on.

Dinah had first hand experience as to the stress her parents chose to vent, most times in loud voices towards each other. There was many a night the scrappy twelve year old wished the walls of their house weren't the width of a piece vellum gilded paper.

All in all, Dinah was not unfamiliar to the darker aspects of the world she lived in. She knew the city they lived in wasn't the best, that there were several gangs that called its boundaries their home.

A week previous had been the worst, Dinah’s parents had raised the decibel level to such an extent that she couldn't drown out their squabbling with her MP3 player. She had curled up in a ball on her bed, hands flattened desperately against the sides of her head. Why couldn't they just get along? Why did they even stay together at all if they hated each other so much? Why? Why? Why…

Then it happened.

Dinah could have sworn the world collapsed around her, shattering into fragments of broken glass. Her body burned, but an icy chill spread outwards from her hands. An endless abyss stretched out in front of her, her eyes gazing out into the infinite aether. She could see out and within of herself, and everything… clicked.

Dinah had woken back up, her parents still screaming at each other. Lost in their pointless troubles. She didn't feel any different, aside from her hand itching for a second. It was then that she discovered her power.

Such a pointless question. Such a disheartening answer.

‘Will my parents ever be happy with each other?’

‘Zero point oh oh oh oh three three nine percent.’

It was an interesting power, although not a very impressive one. Dinah quickly learned its limitations, mostly by using the power to ask questions about itself. This of course also led to the discovery that using it too much was in itself a baaaaaad thing.

Ice cream headaches had nothing on it.

Dinah swore to only use her power sparingly, especially after having asked three pointed questions and receiving three very worrying answers.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

‘Chances that joining the wards is a good thing for me.’

‘Seven point oh oh two percent.’

That had been disappointing, the wards in Dinahs’ mind were the place to be for any superpowered youths. I mean, she could have tried to join the Youth Guard or New Wave, but neither of those options were very appealing to the young girl.

‘Chances that being an independent or a rogue would be good for me.’

‘Thirty point five nine percent.’

That had been slightly better than the results of her previous question, but still was nowhere as high as she had wanted. Perhaps it had been the fact that she asked about multiple aspects in a singular question.

‘Chances that I’ll survive the year if I don’t join a team.”

‘Zero percent.’

That answer had sent Dinah into a panic attack, desperately flinging additional questions at her power until the pain had knocked her unconscious. She had flung team after team at her power, exhausting the possibilities from an online list. She even went down the line from teams that weren't even local to Brockton bay.

The following days had been an ever continuing puzzle, leaving Dinah without the answers she so desperately desired. She couldn’t tell her parents about her newfound power. Seven point three percent chance she lived out the year if they learned of her power from herself telling them.

That is to say, she’d live if they found out from a source that wasn't her. That her chances went down a full four percent when she tried to cheat by having her parents learn from a roundabout method was only the icing on the cake.

A week passed, every day a stressful event that passed without a single preambling threat. Dinah jumped at every shadow, to the extent that even her parents managed to draw themselves out of their collective funk and pay her a modicum of attention.

That led to the day at hand, where both had somehow managed to pass off the semblance of a happy couple long enough to take Dinah out for a bite to eat.

This would have been pleasant.

If only life weren't such a capricious bitch.

Dinah’s father had plopped facedown at the table, a dart with a fluffy red tail sticking straight up out of his neck. Her mother had followed shortly, having managed to let out a single piercing shriek before she capsized the table with her bulk.

Several armed men came strutting out of the woodwork, tinkertech weapons cradled loosely in their hands.

“Got the parents, target secured,” the man in the lead spouted, reaching a thick gloved hand out to grab her.

Dinah threw her coffee in his face.

Chances that getting coffee was in her best interest despite the fact that she despised the bitter drink?

Ninety five point eight percent, for no discernible reason. Not that she was complaining.

She ran, kicking over a chair and hearing one of her pursuers trip over it as she fled. They didn't seem to care about drawing attention to themselves, doing nothing to silence their pursuit.

She threw questions at her power, barely managing to keep her lead as she turned down street after street. Person after person she asked of her power-

‘Chances I’ll live out the year if I ask them for help.’

-and time after time her power gave her startlingly low numbers. So she ran onwards.

She turned down another alley, gaze drifting behind her to see how close the men had gotten. If only she could find someone. Anyone! Heck, she’d take Chubster if he was available, where the heck were all the capes when you really needed one-

She ran into what felt like a wall. A small, squishy, squeaking wall, but a wall nonetheless. Whatever she had hit tumbled to the ground with her, letting out a pained grunt as they hit the the filthy alley floor.

Dinah quickly scrambled to her feet, heart pounding in her chest. She looked up, freezing in place as she finally noticed whom she had collided with.

Green skin.

It was a cape.

Dinah gulped down a hurried gasp of air, forming the question in her mind.

‘Can this cape help me?’