Cameron zipped to the front the moment Bernard mentioned gathering up, leaving a streak of pink across the tiled floor. He nearly tripped over his own boots but spun it into a little twirl, striking a pose with one hand on his hip and the other holding up his diploma like it was an award.

“Hi, Mister Bernard! Dynamo, reporting for duty!” he said with a silly grin on his face. Then he gasped, raising his hand like a student in class. “Oh! Question! Super important one! Do we get, like… lockers? Or a team fridge? Because I burn through calories, and if I don’t have snacks on hand, I’ll crash faster than you can say ‘evil-doers beware.” He patted his stomach proudly.

Cameron looked around at the others, fishing for agreement. “Right? Emergency snack access is, like, step one of being a functioning hero. Food is fuel! Also, food is delicious. But mostly fuel.”