Greg was simultaneously good, and horrible at running.

Good at running from a potentially troubling situation? Of course, just let me slowly sidle out of the room...

Physically moving fast enough that ones lateral momentum could be considered 'running'? Oh good god no. P.E. class was Gregs bane, sweating and groaning like a gorilla in heat was not his favored method of spending his time, much less something he would posit as a past time.

Still, being shot at does wonders for ones motivation. Really just takes the procrastinator out of their hideyhole and kicks them right 'tween the goalposts.

The girl had spouted off her random string of numbers -confusing Greg to no end, it wasn't the typical interaction that he had imagined as his first bout of superherodom.- and shortly after the end of the alley had been filled with an abnormal sight. More so than his own green tinted skin, at least he could explain that away as 'powers be weird, yo'. No, this was abnormal in the normal sense. If that made sense.

Six men, dressed in a spattering of different outfits ranging from a business suit to one who was wearing camo fatigues. Each of them had something in common with the other though, due to what they had all been carrying. Guns, standard rifle looking components that gave way to less than standard looking tinker modifications. To add to that, the guy up at the front of the group was actually the odd man out, carrying a rather normal looking rifle. Greg recognized it as a tranq gun, having seen the weapon in use during a four hour marathon on the Animal Planet.

What. He had been hanging out with Sparky, and the relatively normal life of animals living on the Savannah was oddly relaxing.

Gregs immediate response to seeing the men flood the alley was to put himself in between them and the obviously distressed girl.

Which in turn allowed him a small revelation. The girl wasn't gigantic. He was now tiny. Relatively, at least. The men quite obviously towered over the two of them, having the proportions normal to a typical adult. It was slightly galling, to know his power not only stole his junk but also shrank him to the average size of a middle schooler. It certainly didn't give him much confidence regarding his upcoming confrontation, if only his changer power had made him the size of a small house. Then they wouldn't be leveling all of their weapons... at his... in his general direction... Oh shit, they were going to shoot at him!

The man in the lead shouldered his tranq rifle, pausing to unholster a blatantly tinkertech pistol from under his coat. He momentarily spoke into a handheld radio, the distance between Greg and the group making it so he couldn't hear what was being said. The man gave a short nod, then pointed his gun at Greg and fired.

A freaking LASER shot out near instantaneously, not giving Greg a chance to dodge even if he had had the forethought to. Fate smiled on young Veder however, when instead of a two inch diameter hole being bored through his forehead the blast of light hit the gem above his eyes and... slipped inside of it.

The process was not altogether unpainful, Greg would later equate it to similar straights as the one dentist his mom used to go to. The unlucky bastard had forgot to give Greg anesthetic before he started drilling, scaring himself and Greg to pieces when the young lad had started screaming bloody murder. His business had taken a small hit that day, culminating in an out of court settlement in favor of Gregs mother. It hadn't helped his public image any either, and the last Greg had heard of the fellow he was supposedly moving to a different state.

What did you expect when your dentist was named Fredrick Paine, though?

The moment passed, sensation dulling and evaporating from his forehead as he blandly stared down the equally nonplussed assailant.

The man reached for his radio once more, barking out in a volume the Greg could discern from across the alley.

"Target is a cape, confirmed!" The man dropped the radio back to his hip, snapping out at his accompaniment, "Tech in the visor absorbs shots. Aim for center mass!"

Welp.

Greg didn't stick around to see if his torso was similarly resistant to laser beams. He grabbed the girl by her right hand, booking it for the nearby exit of the alley and back to the city street proper. Thankfully it seemed that the girl had even less compunction about sticking around than he did, quickly matching his pace.

"What the he...ck do they want?" Greg verbally stumbled, trying not to cuss in front of a young girl. If his mom found out he polluted the mind of not only someone she would consider to be a young child, but a girl? He'd be grounded till he was twenty, and that was if she went easy on him. Copious amounts of soap awaited his mouth, at any rate. Better not to risk it.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Plus, capes -of the hero variety anyway, villains seemed to have no such restrictions. Not like they were trying to set a good example or anything...- were not supposed to cuss. They took down villains with a mixture of wit and integrity. Greg didn't want to be labeled as a 'bad' hero right off the bat.

"No idea," the girl responded, gasping down a quick breath of air as they ran. "Whatever it is, it isn't good for me. Zero percent chance I live out the week if they get their hands on me."

Greg paused in his internal musing, puzzling over the girls choice of words.

"Percent? How can you possibly know that though..." Greg trailed off, the answer coming to the forefront of his mind with little prompting. "Oh, duh. Parahuman. Thinker power, with percentage based values to grant you a comprehensive version of precognition?" Greg flinched, wondering at the words that were spilling from his mouth. Since when did he start talking like a total teachers pet? Greg was well known for running his mouth, but he had some sort of propriety. Better to be known as the nerd than the geek. One had weird hobbies and interests, the other was a prime target if a bully wanted to get a string of B's on homework for the classes they were struggling in.

"Y... yeah," she choked out, dodging with Greg as they weaved around an adult that upon taking one look at who was chasing them, averted his gaze and hurriedly scurried away. "My power... It said you could help me!"

"Well..." Greg reasoned, thinking furiously as he cussed out the man in the safe confines of his mind. Bastard, sees a girl and a cape running from a group of gun toting nutjobs and doesn't do anything. Absolute asshole. "I'm kinda new at this. Literally just today, actually. Didn't even know I could do the whole sucky thing with the concentrate light emission. Didn't feel all that great either, so I don't exactly want to go repeating that."

"Of course," the girl grumped, clutching at her side with her left hand. "I'm being chased by bad guys and I somehow manage to latch onto the only cape who's even newer at this than I am. Of course. Couldn't get Assault, Miss Militia or Glory Girl, I have to get the Spectacular Green Girl. Wow. Do you even have a plan?"

Greg ducked to the side, seeing a glint of metal out of his peripheral vision as he made to turn down a street. He managed to juke at just the right time, barely avoiding the lance of brilliant light that someone in the group behind them had fired at them.

"Nyeeeaaaah!" Greg yelped, tenderly grasping at the line of molten fury that had erupted from his chest. A thin line had traced it's way across his chest, cutting through the fabric and burning the flesh underneath. Greg felt a slight tugging from his forehead, a cold shiver that melted across his body and left him feeling drained. After this sensation awaited, Greg noticed that the tear across his chest was gone, replaced once more with unblemished fabric. "Holy shit, cmon!"

They cut across a parking lot, Greg slowing as he huffed desperately for breath. "We can't keep running," Greg admitted, glancing around to see if the group had caught up yet.

"We can't just stop and give up, either!" The girl rebutted.

"Not saying that we... should..." Greg trailed off, the barest traces of a plan starting to form in his mind as he took in their immediate surroundings. "C'mon!" He belted out, grabbing her hand once more as he drug her along. "No... No... Too old, too new, import, alarm system, someone's been sleeping in this one, locked," Greg groused, tugging on the handle to a seemingly random car.

"What the hell are you doing?" The girl asked, eyes wide with confusion. Oh sure, Greg wasn't allowed to cuss, but she was. Some people were just too privileged.

"Looking for something easy, that won't nessasarily ruin suin someone's life," Greg explained, finally spotting his quarry. "This!" He crowed, dragging her to the door of a nearby truck. "What's your power say about this one?"

"What?" the girl retorted.

"Is this a good one? Will us taking this mess up a good person?" Greg reiterated.

"I..." The girl paused, closed her eyes for a couple seconds. "Seventy three point oh eight... No. This one won't hurt anyone that matters," she affirmed.

"Then c'mon!" Greg barked, hauling the truck door open.

"Zero percent... and zero percent," the girl muttered, before snapping attention back to Greg, "There's no key, you won't be able to start it, and hiding won't work!" She protested.

"Just get in," Greg rebuffed, grabbing her around the waist and raising her into the cab. She didn't resist, scooting over to the passenger seat as Greg clambered in alongside her. Being small again suuuuuuuucked. Everything was made for adults, making maneuvering even in the simplest sense a chore.

Greg slid off the edge of the seat, squeezing into the space where ones feet would usually be free to manipulate the pedals. He banged at the aged plastic under the wheel, cracking the fragile material until he managed to peel it back and away from the myriad of wires it had been protecting underneath.

"Do you know what you're doing? Agh!" The girl flinched, clutching her head in a moment of pain. "The hell does 'N.A' mean?"

Greg paused, caught in the moment as he considered her words. What was he doing? He didn't know how to hotwire a car, how the hell did he even get this far? He peered at the shadowy confines of the under space, splinters of sunlight illuminating his hands. It was so simple though, all he had to do was strip the insulation from these two wires, that would bypass the ignition process that was required for any key bearing moral individual...

Greg stopped, mind agog as the veritable schematics for his chosen vehicle slid across his mental processes. He knew what a four cylinder engine was, how it worked, how to make it better. It was galling to be restricted to such mundane tech, but even restrained by such barbarically limited resources she was sure she could pump out a mobile platform that could overtake anything else on the road. Add in some gem tech, and she could even make the stupid thing fly. Affix a modular arm unit, and she could even have a cycling energy dispersal canon at her disposal-

Greg started, flinching as he pondered the two wires in his hands. The hell was that? He then smiled, an earnest grin that crept across his face.

"I'm a tinker!" He crowed, shoving the two wires against each other to punctuate his statement as the engine rumbled to life. He scrambled back up onto the seat, grinning broadly as he took the wheel.

Seconds passed, and Gregs smile slowly fell.

"You can't reach the pedals," The girl observed.

"No I can not."