“Maybe you’re right, Cheshire," said Ghost over his shoulder. "And were all going to be super-villains.” Their transparent friend seemed particularly interested in a case of machine pistols.

"Or maybe we already are," said Polo, closing the locker door. He turned to the others.

"It's no coincidence that Laraxis up there is trying to round up a squad. I mean, the guy is even more transparent than you, Ghost. He wants to rule the world, and use us to do it. Whether we do that by choice or by force, the result is the same."

Polo leaned against the locker, but pulled his phone from his pocket. He started spinning it over and over in his hand. A strange habit, to be sure, but one he indulged in often, especially when he was thinking over something.

[i]Or, when trying to [b]avoid[/b] thinking about something.[/i]

These operatives were an interesting group. Each with extraordinary capabilities, but each with a painful past, difficult memories, suppressing past sins in an attempt at a normal life that had been robbed from them years ago. They each of them were broken, in a way, and the idea that they could be more than the hunted outcasts society told them they were was surely a welcome thought.

"I mean," said Polo. "You've got to admit that a part of Laraxis' plan sounds at least good on the surface, right? Bringing us into the fold, telling us that we're destined to rule over our lessers in some grand plan of the superiors finally being given the recognition we deserve? It all sounds so perversely romantic, don't you think?"