“I probably don’t have much time tonight.” Tim says as he opens the door to the back of Lance’s van. “Things are getting a little complicated at home.”

  “Were they not already? When I looked more into you I came across information about your family and—”

  Tim holds up a hand to signal for him to stop. “It is, now it's even more so.”

  “Problematic.” Lance taps his chin.

  “So, do you have anything for me?” Tim asks.

  Lance brings up some video footage of a large, run down house.

  “That’s one of the farthest meth labs on my map.” Tim points, peering over Lance’s shoulder.

  “Yes.” Lance nods, and then presses a few buttons that cause the footage to zoom in.

  “I began investigating other sites to see if Arch had set up any other ambushes, they seem to have men nearby most of them but the Phantasmaraptor is in the woods behind this property.”

  “Guess that means they only have one super powered dinosaur.”

  “Under their control at least, yes.” Lance nods, a recording of the Phantasmaraptor darting around the woods appearing on another screen.

  “I doubt I have time to fight it tonight, I got a late start and I need to make sure I get home before my friend wakes up.”

  “I wasn’t going to suggest that you do.”

  “Oh?”

  Lance nods, staying quiet.

  “Lance.”

  “Sorry.” He shakes his head, presses a few buttons, then turns to some scattered tech on his desk and begins fiddling with it. “I was going to say avoid it for now, even if we defeat the creature we don’t really get anything out of it, besides salvageable tech.”

  “Is it safe to put it off though?”

  “Did you not just say you don’t have time to fight it?”

  Tim waves it off, “Sure but if it's an actual problem—”

  “It avoids any civilian contact.”

  “I’m a civilian.” PK snorts.

  “It avoids any non anomalous civilian contact.” Lance corrects himself. “Arch won’t want it causing any unnecessary commotion, it's only a danger to you.”

  “Good, mostly.”

  “We should plan on how to handle it, however.”

  “Well yeah, though it's probably as simple as big punch.” Tim nods. ”It's not that strong, and last time it got the jump on me.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “And you have your pulse thing.”

  “Correct.”

  “Sounds like a plan then.”

  “Incorrect.”

  “You wanna make a plan and then interweave it with my expert improv skills when we fight it next then?”

  “That is much more preferred than 'big punch,' yes.”

  “I like big punch.” Tim jabs the air a few times.

  “I am neutral on them, unless they’re an entire plan, then I lean negatively.”

  “Fair.” Tim says as he looks at what Lance is building, quickly determining he has no idea what it could possibly be, so he moves onto more serious topics. “So how much do you think Arch knows about me?”

  “I can assume a few things, they know your ability to transform, they know you likely live in the general area, and they know you’re Caucasian thanks to your old suit being damaged in the last fight.”

  “That doesn’t limit my identity much at least.”

  “No, but what does is they’re sure to assume you were someone present on the day of the explosion.”

  Tim sighs. The guests that day came from schools all over, and numbered around a thousand or more, but that’s still a relatively small list.

  “I was able to crack their system and delete all the data they had on who was in attendance that day.” Lance explains. “Including personnel files so it wouldn’t be obvious it was someone from the field trip, but there’s a likely chance there's accessible hard copies somewhere.”

  Tim nods, “I know some people at my school had sheets with a list of attendees.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Should I sneak in, find some, and get rid of them?”

  Lance shakes his head, “They’ll likely be disposed of naturally, besides, if we did that at your school we’d need to sweep through nearly all of them, or else it could narrow down their search even more.”

  “Good point, oh by the way, totally off topic, but do you want to hang out next weekend?”

  Lance turns to him. “Hang out?”

  Tim nods, “Before you found me, I was going to try looking for you at a science fair.”

  “Ah, I know about it, yes. There will be several people there who’ve worked on projects that hold my interest. From what I know, Rebecca Jones herself will be there.”

  “We can ask if she’s ever read 1984!”

  “Perhaps, there will also be others there I'm interested in as well.” Lance picks up, “Eric Silverline’s work on expanding the use of electricity is of particular interest to a project want to do one day.”

  “Never heard of him, do you have snacks?”

  Lance points to a crate and Tim opens it up, finding it to be a fully functional refrigerator.

  “Do you just build whatever comes to your mind?”

  “If I can, toss me a Snowball please.”

  Tim brings out the white box and tosses Lance one, an entire Hostess already stuffed into his mouth by the time Lance takes a bite.

  “Eric Silverline,” Lance picks up again, “is working on expanding the use of electricity. Specifically, the brain's ability to control it.”

  “Makes sense, it almost already does it anyways.” Tim says with his mouthful.

  “Yes, I’d like to use it one day to remotely operate machinery that can keep up with how quickly I think, along with mapping neurological patterns onto various storage apparatus.”

  “Sounds like making AI with brain waves.”

  “In a sense.”

  “That’s how you get yourself an Ultron, buster.” Tim points.

  “Unlikely.”

  “If we were in a comic book this would give a lot of foreshadowing vibes.”

  “It's a good thing we aren’t in one then.”

  “Five bucks says we run into an electrical villain next week.” Tim holds up five fingers.

  “Do you have five dollars?”

  “I’m going to.”

  “Very well.” Lance agrees.

  “Instead of making an AI, you could hook yourself up to some Tesla Coils and make a sick beat.”

  “That is certainly an application.” Lance smiles. “Yes, I think I’ll accept your invitation.”

  “Nice, I’ll probably invite my other friends as well.”

  Lance nods, “Given the way our partnership seems to be progressing I figured I’d meet them sooner rather than later.”

  “Right right, you looked into me.”

  “You and your friends seem quite close, I’m mildly envious.”

  Tim shrugs “You don’t need to be, you’ll have the same thing soon enough.”

  “Hm,” He pauses, “I hope you’re right.”

  “Well being a hero that inspires hope is what I want to do.”

  “I’m afraid, when it comes to broader social situation, I'm particularly inept. Honestly, it may take a miracle for your friends to like me.”

  “Well, good thing it's a superhero's job to make miracles too!” Tim winks.

  “I suppose so.” Lance smiles. “Well, speaking of your job, that’s all I had for you, feel free to return to work.”

  “Clocking back in boss,” Tim salutes and hops out of the van. “Don’t do too much overtime, we have a budget.”

  “I'm salaried, I’m afraid.”

  “That’s rough buddy.” Tim says sorrowfully, then leaps into the air.

  Patrol definitely keeps PK busy, but aside from a conversation here and there, not nearly busy enough for his mind not to wander.

  He doesn’t dwell on Arch and the House Burners, the spooky government sect, for long. As scary as they are, they’re just too big for him to really worry about right now, not enough information on them either.

  Darik and Jane on the other hand?

  Tim’s known Darik for just about as long as Jane, and he’s never thought of him as any more than a bully. Hell, in elementary and middle school Darik and his friends practically took it up as their full time jobs. After tonight though? Maybe Tim should try giving him the time of day.

  “Problem is I still kind of hate him thooough.” Tim says to a raccoon that he lands besides, startling and causing it to scurry off. “Sorry!”

  Then there’s Jane, which probably isn’t nearly as complicated as he first thought back in the room before her dad barged in. Not the logistical side, that’s still going to suck, but the emotional.

  Jane is, objectively, pretty cute. Thinking back, this isn't the first time he’s thought that about her. Tim isn’t starting to catch romantic feelings for her, he just observed her doing something and his brain went to the most logical descriptor.

  Anything else is just him getting wires crossed. He’s a hormonal teenage boy after all. He one hundred percent loves Jane, she’s always on his mind and is his best friend, of course he loves her, but it's best friend love. Totally different than being in love.

  Besides, how inconvenient would it be if he actually fell for her right now? If they get together? They're sharing a room again and the comments everyone already makes, even though they don’t have those feelings for each other, would become even more annoying.

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  He nods to himself as he lands on top of a late night trolley headed to downtown San Diego. It's risky to go this late, but PK figures he’s been focusing too much on El Cajon anyways. Hopefully he’s scaring people enough to not be bastards there, but he’s sure plenty will simply just leave and go suck somewhere else. Might as well make sure they know there’s nowhere safe from Prehistoric Kid’s Mesozoic might.

  He hops to a different rail car to avoid heading towards the Jones Scrapyard and instead ends up in a less industrial, more R&D section of the city. He’s not all that far away from Arch, and he’s tempted to pay it a visit, but refrains.

  These beachfront labs aren't all that far away from less savory stretches of sand—where people set up bonfires and stick themselves with needles all night long, burying the biohazards in the sand. The few times a year when Tim’s mother, or Delilah, would take him and his friends to the beach it was always those ones. They’re relatively safe during the day, but Tim has heard plenty of times just how dangerous they can get at night.

  “Where do I sign up to volunteer for beach clean up?” He chuckles to himself as he passes by several tech company skyscrapers, their lights flickering.

  All of their lights flicker, then the trolley’s joins them.

  “Uh...”

  PK stands up and opens up his senses, just as the lights completely go out in the building marked as Silverline Electronics.

  “No way dude.” PK says as he hears the crackle of electricity inside, sees a blue flash of light, and then a lightning bolt blows open a pain of glass.

  He follows his first instinct and jumps for the building, but then he senses another problem. He smells them before he hears or sees them, people in the streets below, under the falling shards of glass.

  Three women, tired, breath and sweat all coffee and anxiety. PK needs to change the trajectory of his leap if he’s going to keep the copper tang of blood from joining the scents. He turns and loads a punch too fire a shockwave to shoot down, but his Life Sense guides him to something smaller. He grabs his wrist, puts his fingers together, and snaps, dive bombing down.

  He passes through and past the cloud of razors, puts his arms and legs out like a starfish, and transforms. Fifteen tons of Diplodocus, a classic sauropod for any self respecting dinosaur kid, crashes into the ground and sends up a cloud of pulverized cement as its feet dig into the ground. PK feels the glass fall harmlessly on his back and he waits until it sprinkles onto the ground to shrink back into human.

  “Are you alright—” He tries to ask, only to be cut off by screams and sprinting.

  “Yeah, that’s fair.” PK says, pressing down on his wrist as he judges the height he needs to jump.

  “Hello Prehistoric Kid.”

  “I think I lost our bet.”

  No answer.

  “Lance?”

  “I heard you.”

  “If you want to take a peek I'm about to go into the Silverline building downtown.”

  “Silverline? Surely you’re joking.”

  “Looks like I made your life a lot more like a comic book buddy.” PK snickers and leaps to the shattered window, his fingers digging into the wall so he can hang there.

  Another lightning bolt, this one cutting through concrete a story above him. A chunk falls off and PK jumps up, grabbing it and carrying it with him. He reaches a window and tosses the concrete through, and towards a man illuminated in blue.

  A flash of light and the debris is reduced to dust before PK even lands on dark resin flooring. Zigzags of lightning break through the dust, and then a crack blows it away, revealing to the world's first superhero, the world’s first supervillain.

  A singed, white lab coat and rubber protective gear are covered by dark grey exoskeleton with hard, brutalist angles. Lightning pours from oversized, four finger gauntlets, palms the size of PK’s chest and glowing blue. More crackling comes from a short generator on the man’s back, a blocky tower giving his skinny frame a much more bulky silhouette. Goggles sit on the man’s eyes, encased in the same grey, angled metal. White hair raises from behind the mask, constantly spiked up from the static in the air. PK takes particular note of two, white, nodes on each side of the man’s head, whatever they are, they’re making the sound of sizzling skin join the crackle of the lightning.

  They lock eyes in some sort of equipment assembly area, well kept heavy machinery line the wall, with sturdy, metal tables placed in front of them.

  “Ah, I didn’t believe them at first, the stories of the boy who can become a dinosaur are true.” The man laughs the most authentic super villain laugh PK could ever imagine.

  “Prehistoric Kid at your service.” Tim winks.

  “Oh ho! Very Golden Age, I like it.” The man cackles.

  “Comic book fan huh?” PK asks, he seems like a talker, might as well get him monologuing as he opens his senses to figure out how many people are in the building, and if they need help.

  “More novels and plays, but I love the drama either way. So, Prehistoric Kid what are—”

  Movement, a guard opening a door, gun drawn. The supervillain is already turned, raising his gauntlet as energy pours out. PK can’t even perceive how fast the bolt hits the ground, but the guy's arm is still rising. The guard already fires his bullet by the time PK is over the supervillain’s arm, kicking it back down, then the bullet collides harmlessly off PK.

  A flash of light and a lighting bolt comes from the top of the villain’s tower and rips through the guard’s shoulder. PK digs his foot in the ground and sends debris up into the bad guy’s face, then dashes for the guard, scooping him up in his arms as he shoulder checks the door the guard came through. PK charges into the following hallway, kicks open an office door and sets the guard down in a chair.

  “Lance, get an ambulance here.” He says he dashes back for the lab.

  “Understood.” Lance answers as the supervillain steps through the door and turns towards PK.

  PK narrows his eyes and transforms into his Utahraptor, dashing and trying to strike first, but it's no use. A streak of lightning rips through the air faster than PK can react. It hits him dead on, and he expects to be able to tank it, to push through and reach the man’s gauntlet, but something else entirely happens.

  The bolt knocks PK out of his transformation, sending him flying backwards. He digs his leg into the wall to stop his flight before he ends up back in the room with the guard. He flicks his foot and sends himself to the ceiling, transforming into his Dimetrodon and crawling across it upside down.

  “Tell me Mr. Prehistoric Kid,” the villain ask as PK drops down, transforming into his Utahraptor again and going to snap at one of the gauntlets, only to get zapped and sent through a wall back into the lab. “Are you a hero of justice?”

  PK gets up and rolls his shoulder, “”This have something to do with your tragic backstory?"

  The villain cackles, “Yes! It does, nigh everyone who works for this poor excuse of a company deserves justice you see.”

  “Including that guard?” PK asks as he hops onto a large grinder.

  “He’s not a particularly kind man, and besides, he may lose an arm, but he’ll live.” The villain says as electricity crackles around him, collecting into a sphere in his hand.

  PK digs his feet into the machine and flips, sending it rocketing towards his opponent. Once his feet touch the wall, he kicks off, following behind the chunk of metal.

  “You see Prehistoric Kid,” the villain says as his lightning sphere hits the metal and melts it to slag, PK barreling through molten metal and shoulder checking him into one of the metal tables. “The people of Silverline Electronics are evil.”

  “Do tell.” PK grabs chunks of the cooling metal that had wrapped around him and flicks it towards the man, who lightning catches it each projectile and suspends it in front of him, like the electricity is forming a magnetic field.

  “Eric Silverline and his stooges are thieves!” He yells as the metal is launched back at PK, it shattering against him as PK charges forward and launches a kick at the villain’s head, only for his lightning to pull him down, the kick whiffing. “All their technology! My creation!”

  PK snaps his fingers and sends himself down, colliding with his opponent and sending them to the floor below. The man gasps, winded, and PK get on top of him, forcing the gauntlets to the ground and digging his fingers through the metal.

  Electricity rises around them, and PK braces to take a bolt, but something feels off, wrong. As the villain shocks him, PK doesn’t resist it, he does the opposite. It reminds him of the explosion at Arch, when his body drank in what felt like the very essence of life, but this is the opposite end of the spectrum, this hurts. His cells suck in the electricity, his muscles spasm, his arms lurch back in a cramp, flinging non critical pieces of the gauntlets to the sides.

  He struggles to take a breath, even his lungs spasming from the electrocution. He tries to force his fist downward, will a punch that’ll rip through the tech and free him, but there’s only so much he can fight against his own biology and he only manages a clenched fist.

  The villain laughs, and throws PK off of him and into a wall. Now that he’s not actively being shocked, control of his body starts to return to him, but only starts.

  “I’m the inventor, the visionary, of all that Eric Silverline claims to be his.” The bad guy picks himself up and brushes the dust off his burnt lab coat. “And how did he thank me for handing him his legacy and fortune? He stabbed me in the back! Sold the company off and fired me!”

  “So,” PK struggles to get out, “start a new one.”

  The man watches him try to stand, and then blast him, sending PK back to the ground.

  “Oh, I will, but not before I take back what was given.” He crouches by PK and lowers his voice. “He doomed me, you see, to a slow, agonizing death, and I will never forgive him for that, Prehistoric Kid. So, his fortune, his legacy, his life, Eric and his cohorts owe me all of this, and I will not be denied. So, Prehistoric Kid, if you are a hero of ju—”

  CRACK!

  An arm twitch lands PK’s clenched fist into the man’s mask, cracking it in two and sending him across the space and through a wall. PK grits his teeth and stands up, fingers digging into drywall for extra support.

  “I’m not letting you kill anyone, Sparky.” PK tries to stand straight and roll his neck, only for a spasm to almost send him back to his knees.

  The man steps through the hole, an old, wrinkled face glaring at PK. Burnt skin rises around the two white nodes on his head, lighting shaped burns running from the flesh to his eyes. Something tugs on PK’s heart, an idea he’s come across a million times while reading comics. An accident, an experiment gone wrong, doing irreparable damage to someone good, and turning them bad.

  “Who are you?” Tim asks.

  “I am a visionary!” He booms back. “ I am a passed over genius! I am the future who refuses to be stolen from and shoved under a rug, only for my contributions to be revealed decades after my death! So! In honor of my predecessors who could not claw their way out of obscurity in life, but name is revered in death, you, Prehistoric Kid, may call me Doctor Tesla.”

  Tim sighs, then picks up the sound of sirens minutes away, police and ambulance both. Whoever Tesla really is, he’s unstable, so if police pull guns, and they will, it just means more people will be in danger.

  So he transforms into a Ceratosaurus, the nearly twenty foot long, three horned carnivore instantly closing the distance between PK and Tesla. His teeth wrap around Tesla’s right gauntlet and pulls it to the side, ruining it as a lightning bolt from the tower hits his head, sending him flying.

  He finds himself in a breakroom, flying over a table, and grabs ahold of it. He brings it up to him and places his feet against it, launching it towards Tesla. Lightning rips it apart, and as Tesla’s vision is obscured PK goes small, scurrying between Tesla’s leg and popping up as a Dilophosaurus behind him.

  He bites into the tower, a spark from the ruined tech sending him backwards and smashing him though glass and into open air. He hears Tesla curse, hears the electronics in his exoskeleton start to fail. He puts his hand behind him, readying a snap to launch himself back into the fight, when a lightning bolt collides with him.

  His spasming body collides with a concrete column holding up the trolley way, and continues to fall, skipping across the concrete until he slams into a street lamp, bending and causing its lights to flicker and go out.

  He forces himself up and looks up, seeing ropes of lightning come through the window and attach to metal, carrying Tesla off into the distance. PK goes to jump, to follow, but Lance speaks up in his ear.

  “Prehistoric Kid, don’t pursue.”

  “He’s going to hurt people, Lance.” Tim growls.

  “Unlikely, while he seems to have some abilities, most of his power comes from his tech, he’ll need to repair it. But, he may still be able to defeat you as he is, you cannot remain immobile for a prolonged period of time, not with Arch watching and the Phantasmaraptor in play.”

  “But—”

  “I will pay close attention and let you know immediately should he appear, now, you should leave before the police arrive. It's nearly sunrise anyways.”

  Great.