Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A guy in a brown trenchcoat sat on the edge of a building, observing the streets below. A figure in a yellow sweatshirt just floated through the roof and landed beside him. If you took a closer look you could see that the guy in a trenchcoat had brown hair with a maroon beanie covering it. He also had a black mask covering half his face.

“I thought you were patrolling 11th alley Ghost,” the guy in a trenchcoat hissed.

Ghost, who looked exactly the same as his twin except for the sweatshirt and the blue mask, just smiled back at his brother. “It’s all clear Siren!”

Siren just huffed and continued to observe the streets below. Waiting. Sure enough, two groups of people emerged from the houses on each side. The grin on Ghost’s face quickly faded. He phased through the roof of the house they were standing on.

“Keep me updated,” Siren registered Ghost's voice in his head.

“Yeah, you too.”

Siren heard voices from the alleyway. He picked up something about drugs, they got the right place.

“All houses are clear!” Ghost said.

“So six people,” Siren smiled. “We can take ‘em.”

He jumped down and landed right in between of the two groups.

“Hey guys, save some for me?” he smirked.

One of them threw a punch at him, which he easily avoided and moved away from. They all turned to where he was standing. One of them was emitting sparks from his hands. Distracted, they didn’t even have time to react when Ghost phased through the wall punched the guy closest. The men in black shifted their gazes to Ghost, who kicked another one in the chins. He nodded at his brother and covered his ears. Siren walked closer to them.

“Go to sleep, and forget our faces” Siren whispered with his Silver Tongue. Yes, that was the name of his quirk. Lame. The quirk itself wasn’t that lame though. He was able to make people do anything he said if they heard his Silver Tongue voice. He couldn’t choose the victims though, which meant his allies had to cover his ears. Ghost’s quirk was Phantom. He could phase through walls and turn invisible, if he touched someone they could share his powers as long as he didn’t let go. Very useful in combat and in general really.

He walked towards the sleeping men and helped Ghost to tie up their hands.

“Hurry up Ghost, the heroes will arrive soon,” Siren said to his brother.

“I know Siren, I’m almost done,” Ghost smiled.

Oh yeah. Their parents thought it would be a good idea to name identical twins Will and Wilbur. Quite funny really. The vigilante duo, Ghost and Siren’s real names were Will and Wilbur Soot. Even though they looked alike and had similar names, their personalities couldn’t be more different. Wilbur was sarcastic and witty, the smarter and more annoying. Will was a fucking angel, optimistic and shining like the sun. And dangerous in hand to hand combat. Together they made a pretty good team.

“Hey! You fuckers put your hands up, or I’m gonna start stabbin’ shit!”

The twins looked up to see three hero trainees (they looked far too young to have graduated). The boy in the middle had a red and white shirt, and some fancy tech. The one on the right had a green shirt and the same tech, and the one on the left’s skin were two colors.

“Sorry, but we don’t wanna go to jail. Otherwise I’d love to get to know you!” Will smiled at the kids. Wilbur rolled his eyes and smirked.

“Bye child, hope we don’t meet again!”

“I’M NOT A FUCKING-”

The shout was cut off by Will dragging him through the wall and house. Once they got out on the other side they both immediately started climbing to the roof.

“You think he saw our faces?” Will asked.

“Nah it was too dark, and they looked kinda stupid,” he snickered to himself.

Will frowned. “That’s not very nice.”

The twins made it up and started running across the rooftops of Vienna. Footsteps of two people could be heard running after them. Years of vigilantism and fighting to survive kicked in as they jumped from house to house. Wilbur’s legs were burning from exhaustion, but he didn’t care. The adrenaline of being chased and running for his life never got old. It always managed to put a smile on his face.

He looked back to see them gaining. That stupid tech. Wilbur scowled and ran faster. Three, two, one steps and jump. He flew from one roof to the other, the air blowing through his hair felt so freeing. He prepared himself for a landing. Pain shot up his left leg. Will noticed and without warning quickly phased them through the wall. Wilbur positioned himself to land on his right leg. He stumbled a bit, but Will caught him before he touched the ground.

“Be more careful! You hurt yourself on every mission and I swear to god-” Will was cut off by two of the three hero trainees crashing through the roof. The loud child and the one with a green shirt.

“Ouch,” one of them exclaimed.

The younger guys quickly got on their feet, both in a fighting stance.

“You will pay for calling me a child, bitch.”

His eyes gleamed with determination to win. Wilbur looked to his brother, who also was ready for battle. He hesitated. They couldn’t beat specially trained people with really fancy tech. Even if they were kids.

“Sorry Ghost,” Wilbur closed his eyes.

“Huh-”

“Sleep!” he screamed out.

He heard three bodies hit the floor with a loud thunk. Wilbur opened his eyes and turned to where his brother was lying. He ran over to the sleeping body. Oh god what had he done!?

“Wake up,” he whispered so only he and his twin could hear. Will’s eyes blinked open. Relief hit Wilbur like a wave as he let out the breath he didn’t know he held.

“I thought we agreed to not use your powers on me,” Will smiled at his brother.

“Oh my god, I thought you- holy shit,” he pulled his twin close to his chest. He felt Will’s warm hands on his back.

“Just don’t do it again, you still can’t control it fully.”

“I know,” Wilbur sighed. He felt the warmth disappear from his back and pulled out from the hug as well.

“Let’s get their tech, we can use it,” Wilbur stood up and walked over to the sleeping kids.

“And check their ID’s, so we know who’s radar we’re on.”

“Always checking everything, they’re probably working at some small agency. It's fine.”

Wilbur took the boot off of the loud child and inspected it.

“Electromagnetic nanotech for increased speed and higher jumps, damn this is some real shit.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Will hummed as he searched for the little cards.

Wilbur put down the boot and took the earpiece of the child’s ear. High quality electromagnetic - again? this agency is rich - airwaves with a MGh too high to even calculate. They could get a good price for this.

“Hey, Wilbur.”

“Yeah,” he turned his gaze to his brother. Will showed a hero trainee ID with the hero name, agency, age and more. Tubbo, 15, Philza Blade agency- hold up.

“There working for Philza and The Blade!?” Wilbur exclaimed.

“I think we might be on the radar now.”

Yep, definitely. Oh this was bad. More hero partols in this area would make it harder to do their job. And not get caught. Fuck.

“Let’s just take the tech and leave.”

Chapter Text

The twins climbed through the window of their small two-room apartment. Will supported Wilbur as he walked towards the sofa. They sat down and Will moved to get the first aid kit from the small bathroom. Wilbur’s gaze followed his brother until he was out of sight. Then he picked up the boots they snatched from the hero trainees. If he remodeled them a bit to fit their feet and maybe add some things for combat, maybe a manual button to increase the power for longer flight and more powerful kicks-

“I checked the kids’ quirks, pretty neat ones!” Will emerged from the bathroom, interrupting his rambling thoughts. Probably annoyed. Wilbur hummed in agnolishment as he reached for a screwdriver placed on the sofa table.

“Tubbo, the kid in green, has a quirk called ‘Mute’. He can nullify the effects of a quirk, doesn’t really help against yours though.” - Wilbur snorted - “Tommy, the loud one, has a quirk called ‘Scream’ he can create powerful soundwaves with his voice. Kids’ got potential.”

So why didn’t they use them, instead relying on tech? Lack of control? The question stayed in both twins' heads. Will started to treat his brother's leg. Said brother started to take apart the boots and rearranging the pieces.

“I can modify these to fit us and maybe make them better, if we get the right materials from Punz and Purpled,” he moved his leg away from the hands bandaging it. Will looked confused.

“But we don’t have anything to trade nor sell,” he dramatically gasped. “Don’t tell me you took my Blue!”

“I didn’t take your weird drugs Will, it’s the only thing keeping you away from my weed,” - Will shot a glare his way - “I snatched the earpieces.”

His brother seemed content knowing his Blue was still on the top kitchen shelf, somehow not confiscated by the landlord despite the weird blue color and the fact that they were obviously drugs.

“We could get some nice tech parts for this, if we’re lucky we might get to refill the drug cabinet too,” Wilbur thought out loud.

“It’s funny how we stop drug deals daily but we also buy drugs ourselves!” Will said in the most innocent, cheerful voice. Wilbur tried to fight a smile, but soon they both erupted in loud laughter.

“How- you are the only one that can say that,” Wilbur managed to wheeze out.

The twins calmed down after a while. Wilbur stood up with the help of Will, and walked (only limping a bit) to open the door.

“Let’s go, it’s about 9:30 pm and if these are gonna be ready before the next mission” - he pointed to the boots - “then we need the materials today.”

“Right!”

Will stood up and grabbed the keys. That they forgot to take with on the mission so they were really lucky no one broke in considering they’re living in Sector 92 of 100 which is just thieves and villains also why were there hero patrols from high agencies this far from the capitol-

Will clapped his hands together in front of his face. “Snap out of those paranoid thoughts, the keys are fine. As for the patrols, I honestly have no clue.”

“You always know what I’m thinking,” Wilbur sighed in defeat.

His brother giggled.

“It’s because you said it out loud.”

They both knew he didn’t.

------

The twins found themselves outside a bar called ‘Devil's Nest’. It looked completely normal at first sight. A small place in an alleyway, old wood furniture on the inside. No one really came here though. Well, not to drink at least.

They walked up to the counter where a teenager (far too young to work in a bar, much less what the place really was for) in a dirty, purple hoodie greeted them.

“My brothers favorite twins, what have brought you here today?” the teen said.

“We’re not your favorite?” Will looked genuinely sad.

“Quackity will always be my man, you know this.”

“He’s everyone's favorite,” Will deadpanned.

Wilbur rolled his eyes. Quackity was everyone’s favorite. Reason: he dealt the best drugs.

“Purpled we’re here to trade these,” he threw the earpieces on the counter.

The teen picked one up and inspected it. His eyebrows almost flew above his hairline when he realized where they came from.

“Punz, take a look at this!”

An adult the twins' age came out of the back storage. He wore a white hoodie with a necklace around his neck.

“Hey, it’s my favorite twins!”

“Hello!”

“‘Sup Punz.”

Purpled handed him the earpiece, and Punz had the same reaction as his brother.

“This is Karl Jacobs tech, only the highest agencies from the capitol are allowed these. What the fuck did you do!?”

Neither mentioned why they didn’t keep the earpieces.

“Some hero trainees from the Philza Blade joint agency were patrolling 11th, 12th alley. No clue why they were in 92 though,” Wilbur shrugged.

“We checked their ID’s, interesting quirks those kids have. Might be training directly under the heroes!” Will speculated cheerfully. He was smart enough not to mention the boots. That would definitely lower the payment they could get just from the four earpieces if they knew the twins had more high tech stuff.

Punz hummed. “What do you want?”

“1,3 grams of palladium. If it’s not too much, throw in some blue too.”

Punz nodded at his brother who went into the back to fetch the payment. When Purpled was gone, he leaned over the counter.

“It’s rumoured that the top heroes heard about the need for vigilantes in the 70 -100 Sectors to keep the villains in check. I guess that’s why they sent in trainees,” Punz whispered to the twins.

“To keep a poor society in check-” Will began.

“And to capture the vigilantes,” Wilbur finished, a hand on his chin.

Punz nodded. “Be careful, this sector really likes you two.”

“I got the payment!” Purpled emerged from the storage room. He dumped the grams of palladium and a bag of blue goo on the counter. Will’s eyes fucking shined. He looked like a child on christmas.

“Thank you so much!” he exclaimed and hugged the blue. This is why you don’t do blue kids. Or crimson. The ‘Bad’ incident is something they’d rather not talk about.

Wilbur rolled his eyes and grabbed the palladium.

“See you next time, update your profile,” he walked (limped slightly) towards the door. Punz and Purpled waved.

“Bye and thank you!”

The earpiece crackled with static.

-----

The next day Wilbur and Will Soot were walking towards their job. Well, if you could call playing music on the streets a job. Aside from vigilantism, the jobs they got from Punz and Purpled, they wrote and played music. Will played the keyboard and Wilbur played the guitar. The twins usually played at the same square, which meant they got the same audience. Most people in the Sector 92 square liked their voices, and tipped if they could afford it. Most couldn’t.

The twins set up the two chairs and their instruments.

The sheets of a song made by themselves, the L’Manberg Anthem, was placed in front of them. It was a song about an imaginary country, where the people roamed free. A safe haven. A story of a revolution to overcome the dictators of the land. And the success. The end result of everyone being happy.

I heard there was a special place

Their voices blended together in a harmony without a melody.

Where men could go and emancipate

People looked up at the lack of an instrumental background.

The brutality and tyranny of their rulers

A crowd gathered round the two musicians. The song had more of a political agenda than the others.

Well this place is real you needn’t fret

And why the fuck not. If there were hero trainees in town they might as well get a message across to the goddamned capitol.

With you and sectors til’ the end

The twins hadn’t put their hands on the instruments yet, just savoring getting lost in the song.

It’s a very big and not split up L’Manberg

Every country had its poorer places. But they had only villains in these parts, and heroes never moved further from Sector 55.

My L’Manberg
My L’Manberg
My L’Manberg
My L’Manberg

The twins harmonized beautifully. The crowd grew as they put their hands on the instruments for the second verse.

For freedom and for liberty

The twins noticed the hero trainee that didn’t follow them amongst the crowd. Along with a hero.

Our nation sought to build on these

The twins faltered a bit under the stare of the hero Warden, but kept playing anyway.

A victory for all under democracy

Wilbur was anxious, but with a crowd like this…

Well the darkness came and then it went

so engaged in their song…

We built a home and watched it sink

the heroes couldn’t arrest them here.

And from the rubble

Not without starting a riot.

There emerged L’Manberg

Wilbur smiled, he could hear his brother’s laugh in his head.

My L’Manberg
My L’Manberg
My L’Manberg
My L’Manberg

The last verse.

With bloodied hands and weakened knees

The instruments fell silent under the twins’ hands

Our people rose like the phoenix

Someone in the crowd clapped along, creating a beat.

Our empty fields and canals ‘round L’Mantree

The entire crowd was following the person's example now.

With sweat and tears we armed our ranks

The hero trainee looked very distressed, small purple particles emitting from his body.

We laid foundations in our land

The hero placed a calming hand on the trainee.

And from here every lips, from here up to infinity

The twins smiled, both filled with glee.

We sing L’Manberg

Someone echoed the lyrics, singing along.

We sing L’Manberg

More people joined in, creating a beautiful harmony.

We sing L’Manberg

Wilbur almost cried, filled with joy. Acceptance.

To our L’Manberg

Everyone joined in on the last line. It was silent for a moment. Then applause erupted. The twins stood up and bowed, the cheering increased. When they looked up, Warden nodded at them.

Respect.

They had the respect from a top 20 hero.

They walked away with glee that day. A feeling they almost never had anymore.

Chapter Text

Tommyinnit, the best most charismatic and poggest (fuck you, poggest is a word) hero ever was beaten by a vigilante. A puny vigilante. From Sector 92 no less. Who called him a child. He wasn’t a fucking child! He was so closing to yeeting the coffie cup he got from Tubbo out the fucking window of a 20 story building.

He and Tubbo got back to Philza Blade HQ approximately 30 minutes after they passed out. The quirk effect didn’t last that long, but the guy was probably holding back since his partner was there. Philza had the audacity to laugh at them when they got back. And that fucking Ranboob guy (he came from Dream’s agency but had a joint enternship with them for a while) snickered. The one from Dream’s agency - everyone knew what Dream did was kinda sus, even though he was charing nr 1 with Blade - snickered.

The long story is that Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboob were patrolling in the poor Sectors at the edge of Vienna. They encountered a vigilante duo who somehow took down a drug deal and beat them. Or well he and Tubbo. Ranboob stayed behind to inform the police of the situation. They also snatched the very expensive earpieces and boots (Karl Jacobs design, really rare).

The short story is that Tommy had a bad day and now he’s pissed.

“He called me a fucking child!” Tommy complained to the team while Philza were typing on a computer.

“To be fair you are a child,” Techno said from behind them. The Blade hero was very intimidating in battle, but once you got to know the guy he had a great sense of humor and was pretty caring. Though it was rare you got to see that side of him.

Tommy was fuming. “I AM NOT A FUCKING CHILD!”

“You are under 18 though,” Philza looked up from the computer with a smirk. The man was as nice as he came off as on the news. Very caring, but also chaotic at times. Honestly he’s mostly railing in the others but whatever.

Tubbo and Ranboo were snickering behind him.

“I will stab you,” he threatened.

“That doesn’t sound very heroic,” Tubbo pointed out.

Before Tommy could shout something again Philza’s computer pinged.

“Found connection with the earpiece, plug in the USB so we can record this.”

Ranboo plugged in the USB as everyone huddled around the laptop. Even Tommy kept quiet for this. A static crackle emitted from the computer. Then voices.

“-Karl Jacobs tech, only the highest agencies from the capitol are allowed these. What the fuck did you do!?”

A shocked voice emerged from the computer.

“I didn’t hear that voice yesterday,” Tommy observed.

“Some hero trainees from the Philza Blade joint agency were patrolling 11th, 12th alley. No clue why they were in 92 though.”

That voice was familiar.

“The one in a brown trenchcoat,” Tubbo pointed out this time.

“We checked their ID’s, interesting quirks those kids have. Might be training directly under the heroes!”

“The one in a yellow hoodie,” both Tubbo and Tommy said at the same time.

“JINX!” Tommy yelled.

“Shut up!” Techno hissed.

Tubbo shot a glare at him.

“What do you want?”

“1,3 grams of palladium. If it’s not too much, throw in some blue too.”

Blue!? The others looked as shell shocked as Tommy was feeling. But it didn’t show on his face ‘cause he’s awesome.

“That’s so dangerous,” Phil said.

“Didn’t they stop a deal?”

“It’s rumoured that the top heroes heard about the need for vigilantes in the 70 -100 Sectors to keep the villains in check. I guess that’s why they sent in trainees.”

What the fuck!? They just saw through the plan of several top heroes working together.

“Word travels fast,” someone said.

“To keep a poor society in check-”

“And to capture the vigilantes.”

“They’re smart,” Phil said thoughtfully.

“Be careful, this sector really likes you two,” the unfamiliar voice said.

He let out a frustrated sigh. “That sure makes it harder.”

“I got the payment!”

A new voice.

“They’re young, maybe your age,” Techno observed. Wait-

“Our age!? And they’re working in a place like that!?” Ranboo exclaimed in concern.

“The outer Sectors aren’t that kid friendly, if you could say that,” Phil explained with a wince.

“Thank you so much!”

“See you next time, update your profile.”

The entire company perked up. A code word.

“Bye and thank you!”

The earpiece crackled and cut off.

To say that everyone was shocked was an understatement. Tommy felt like his entire world had been turned upside down. There were kids working as drug dealers for the queen of England’s sake!

(Yes, Tommy is well aware that he doesn’t live in England, but that woman is amazing.)

And if their problems weren’t big enough already, the vigilantes are smart. That throws a wrench in so many problems with vigilantes. Most of them in the inner Sectors aren’t that careful with what they do, which results in very easy catches. Tommy’s ears ringed from overthinking so much, he just wanted to scream.

“What do we know?” Phil’s grounding voice brought him back to reality.

A collective breath was let out.

“They live in Sector 92, and are in contact with drug dealers,” Ranboo said.

“Not just drug dealers, those guys had palladium. They’ve probably been in business for a long time,” Techno pointed out.

“One has a yellow hoodie and a phasing quirk of some sort,” Tubbo said with a hand on his chin, as if he was trying to remember everything.

“The other had a brown trenchcoat and a mind-control quirk activated by voice I think,” Tommy added.

“They sold the earpieces, but kept the boots,” Phil mumbled thoughtfully. “Maybe they already have a way of communicating with each other. That would explain why they didn’t keep them but kept the boots.”

“It could be part of the mind-control quirk,” Techno suggested.

Tommy watched in awe as the top heroes Blade and Philza theorized on the caze. He didn’t express it, but he felt really lucky being able to intern at one of the top agencies. The moment he saw his acceptance letter he was filled with warmth and swore to himself to never let opportunities like these slip. The warmth in his body had yet to leave him.

“We could send out Sam to patrol in 92 in the morning,” Techno said.

Phil hummed in agreement.

“Okay but he has to take one of these three with him, since they know more about the vigilantes,” he pointed out.

“I can go,” Ranboo said. “I know him pretty well since he also works at the Dream agency.”

They all nodded.

“Now go to sleep, all of you. It’s 2 am in the fucking morning.”

------------

Tommy was listening through Ranboo’s microphone as they walked along the streets of Sector 92. Tubbo sat beside him with a small video being sent live from Sam’s costume. Philza and Blade were out patrolling at the moment, so that left them with the boring work of a (sort of) steak out.

Tommy sighed as nothing but chatter from citizens and occasionally some surprised whispers could be heard from the headphones he was wearing. He heard Tubbo let out a frustrated groan, which mirrored exactly what Tommy was feeling. There was a slight pounding in his head, and his legs were restless.

“This is pointless, nothing is going to happen!” he exclaimed.

“And if something does happen both Sam and Ranboo will be there to recall it all anyways,” Tubbo muttered.

Suddenly faint music began to play through the headphones. A melodic, soft and almost enticing tune of piano and guitar was heard. Tommy perked up since this is the first action they’ve seen in hours. The melody was also really good.

“They’re approaching a crowd watching two guys play music,” Tubbo informed him.

“For freedom and for liberty,”

Then they began to sing, and Tommy was hypnotized by the voices. A soft and lighter tone blending perfectly with a slightly rougher, slightly deeper one.

“Our nation sought to build on these.”

Both Tommy and Tubbo stared in awe as the two men sang. They knew they should've been worried when the crowd started to sing with them, but every worry and thought of neglect vanished with the song. The applause roared when they finished and both hero trainees clapped along.

Suddenly Tommy’s phone pinged. He picked it up to see that Philza had sent him a message.

‘In need of assistance, sector 46, take tubbo w u’

Tommy looked up at his friend.

“Phil is asking for help, we gotta go.”

Chapter Text

Will wasn’t a happy person. Anyone who met him would take him for naive and optimistic, they couldn’t be more wrong. He was extremely observant and realistic. He could tell your intentions from a simple glance of your face. Will used this to often calm his paranoid twin down when they were in danger. Nobody really scared him, he always knew who would betray them.

Then there was Dream. The most popular hero alongside The Blade. Dream’s face held no emotion. It was not like The Blade’s stoic face when you saw him on TV, there were always creases in his forehead and subtle edges to his words. Wilbur would always ask him what the heroes and hero trainees on screen were thinking when they were little.

It happened during a hero school tournament that was broadcasted live. The Blade was shown on screen in taking first place and when Wilbur asked what he felt he told him what he saw. He saw pride, relief and a bit of anxiousness. Then the camera had panned over to Dream and he saw nothing. For the first time in his life he didn’t know what the other was thinking. He felt the warmth in his body disappear as he looked upon the perfectly crafted mask Dream was wearing. He should’ve known right then and there, people don’t wear a mask unless they’ve got something to hide.

The trauma the twins held of their lives after was too much for them to bear. Will would lay awake in fear, and cry over what they had become. Wilbur became paranoid and would come up with plans after plans for when Dream found them. Wilbur’s constant trail of thoughts wasn’t helping Will at all. So to get Wilbur something to plan and think about they resorted to vigilantism. It wasn’t the best coping mechanism (neither is weed) but it worked. The blue they would receive from Purpled and Punz (or even Quackity himself occasionally) was really helpful at calming him down and getting him into his cheerful act.

“You’re gonna die if you inhale more,” Wilbur emerged from the apartment to stand beside his brother. He removed the weed from his mouth. They stood there on their small balcony looking at each other.

“Don’t you wanna be with the ‘happy go lucky’ me instead.”

“Oh god no, not Ghost!” Wilbur spoke dramatically, which made Will snort. Wilbur turned back to look out across their district. The sunlight made his eyes look golden.

“I prefer the real you,” Will smiled genuinely at that and turned to look at the district. They stood there in silence for a while. Even their minds were at peace. If only it could stay like this forever.

--------

“Victory!”

Purpled smiled as the electronic voice emerged from his cell phone. He looked up from his game when he heard a little squeak. A rat ran across the floor of the bar, looking like it was very distressed. Almost like it was late or was being chased. Purpled simply pointed a finger at the rat, and it stopped running and fell to the floor lifeless. He walked around the counter to pick the animal off the ground.

“What the fuck.”

Purpled’s head snapped up to see two kids his age and- fucking Philza and The Blade!? What the hell were two top heroes doing here in 92? Had they found out about the dealing. The teens looked mildly shocked (though the browned haired one was better at hiding it) while the heroes looked stern and determined. Was the earpiece bugged? It was, wasn’t it.

“Holy shit! A-are you The Blade!?” Purpled innocently said. “I’m a huge fan, you are absolutely amazing, but we never see you since we live out here.”

He lied through his teeth, playing the innocent teen. He could at least save time this way. The Blade took a step towards him while Philza stayed back. Purpled quickly put his hands up.

“Hey! I haven’t done anything, what-” the man with pink hair put a hand on his sword.

“We just want to talk.”

Purpled swallowed hard. He might’ve been able to take the younger two by himself, but Philza and The Blade. Never. Why did Punz have to be out now?

“Alright,” he gave up. “But you saw what happened to that rat right?” The top heroes didn’t budge but the teen’s demeanors seemed to shift. Purpled repressed the urge to smirk.

“I could do the same to you, so I’m proposing an ultimatum.”

“Not a chance,” The Blade pulled out his sword and pointed it at his neck. “You will answer our questions.”

The purpled eyed teen shifted uncomfortably under the gaze and sharp sword of The Blade. His brain was on overdrive, searching for escape-options or some way to turn the tables on them. He found none. Purpled sighed in defeat, bargaining it was.

“Okay I’ll answer 4 questions, but you have to answer my question.”

“Why should we, bitch?” one of the teens piped up.

“Otherwise you’d have to go somewhere else for information, or hurt me. I know it’s sektor 92 but I don’t think hurting a child would look good on any hero's resume,” Purpled smiled. “It’s a pretty good deal if you ask me.”

The four heroes looked at each other before answering him; “Okay.”

“Ask away,” he said.

“What do you know about the vigilante pair that has been roaming around this sektor?” The Blade asked.

“The pair buys from us sometimes, but that’s it,” he lied easily. If he answered each question with a short answer then they would waste questions asking for specific details.

“Do you know what they look like?” Questions like that.

“Don’t know, they always wear their masks whenever I’ve seen them.”

Purpled could almost feel his heart flying around in his chest. One wrong wording, one little slip-up and it was all over. He’d reveal the twins and he’d be taken in for lying to the government. At least he’d be out of here.

“What is your job here?”

“I’m a bartender,” he lied through his teeth.

“What do you do as a bartender?”

“Make drinks, handle the cash register and give the customers what they paid for,” Purpled said truthfully. He didn’t necessarily need to lie.

“Alright, that's four questions, my turn,” Purpled said and realized he hadn’t thought about what to ask them. He looked between the three heroes in front of him to see any sign of anything. Wait. There were four-

“Agh!” Purpled screamed out when he felt pain blossom in the back of his skull. Suddenly he was falling towards the ground.

What the fuck.