“Okay, maybe it wasn’t actual flying, but it wasn’t normal, either, what you did. You jumped”—he glanced back, measuring the city with his eyes—“at least fourteen feet, and you weren’t even running or anything at the time. You just took off.”

 

Adrian stared at him as his mind searched for an explanation, but nothing came. The silence felt impermeable and Adrian wanted to break it, but he had nothing to say.

 

Finally, Max sank back onto his heels. “You know, I’ve seen videos of another prodigy that can jump like that too.”

 

Adrian’s pressed his lips tight together, as if the confession might emerge of its own accord. Already he was debating if it would really be so bad to tell Max the truth. He could be trusted with this secret, couldn’t he? Clearly, he’d already figured it out—at least, guessed—so how much harm would there be in admitting it?

 

But still he hesitated. Because as much as he loved Max, he also knew that Max loved Captain Chromium, and Adrian couldn’t be sure where most of his loyalties lay, and Adrian still wasn’t ready for his dads to know that he was the Sentinel. Their expressions when they’d gotten to headquarters last night, after they heard about what happened in the quarantine, were burned into his memory. Fear and panic, relief coupled with concern. Not just for what had happened, but more for what could have happened. Adrian knew it wasn’t just the fear that he might have lost his powers, which would be hard to come to terms with at first, but wouldn’t have been the end of the world. But it was also the fact that he’d nearly died at the library that still had them shaken up. Perhaps, too, their nerves were running high from the Captain’s brush with death at the parade, even if neither of them was admitting how close it had been.

 

Being a Renegade was dangerous. It had always been dangerous, and few superheroes tried to persuade themselves otherwise. It was just a fact of this life they had chosen—or that had chosen them.

 

But if his dads found out that Adrian was also the Sentinel … had taken on Nightmare at the parade, visited the Anarchists in their tunnels, faced off against the Detonator at the library, and charged headlong into the fire … their anxiety would skyrocket. He didn’t need to put them through that.

 

At least, that’s what he told himself. It was for them. He was keeping this secret for their own well-being, to protect them from their own worries.

 

But he also knew that it was a selfish decision. He wasn’t ready to hang up the mantle of the Sentinel, and he knew they would ask him to.

 

What he didn’t know was whether he would listen to the request or not. Right now, it seemed easier to stay silent.

 

“Okay, fine,” said Max, once it became clear Adrian wasn’t going to admit to his assumptions. “You don’t have to answer. I saw what I saw.”

 

Adrian looked away, his shoulders weighted down with guilt. He wished he could explain to Max that it wasn’t personal. That he wasn’t ready to tell anyone.

 

He said simply, “It’s complicated.”

 

Max guffawed. “Yeah, and I don’t know anything about that.”

 

Adrian cringed.

 

“But one thing did occur to me,” said Max, tapping his marker into his palm. “This guy called the Sentinel … you might have heard of him? The Sentinel? He’s kind of been in the news a lot lately.”

 

Adrian shot him a wry look. “Sounds familiar.”

 

“Right, so as far as I know, this guy they call the Sentinel and I might be the only prodigies alive who can claim to have more than one superpower. At least, we both have multiple, totally unrelated superpowers. Not like Tsunami, who can both create water from nothing and also manipulate existing water. But he can make fire and do the whole jumping thing and now they’re saying he has some fancy new concussive energy beam. Whereas I have”—he tapped the pen against each fingertip as he counted—“telekinesis, metal manipulation, matter fusing, some invisibility, um…” He pondered. “Absorption, obviously, and now whatever it is you do. What do you call it, anyway?”

 

Adrian was smiling again. He knew Max was working to cross the divide caused by Adrian’s secret and his unwillingness to talk about. It felt like a compromise, and he was grateful for it. “I just call it sketching,” he said. “But I think it’s listed as ‘artwork genesis’ in my profile.”

 

“Artwork genesis. Cool. That’s a good list, isn’t it?”

 

“It’s an awesome list.” Truthfully, it was more impressive than Adrian realized. He rarely saw Max use any of the abilities he had gathered from prodigies, most of which had been absorbed when he was a child. Telekinesis from Ace Anarchy, metal manipulation and matter fusing from his birth parents, a bit of invisibility taken from the Dread Warden before they realized what it was he could do. Now, of course, Adrian’s power, and maybe even some of Nova’s. He may not have been powerful in all of these abilities, as demonstrated by the car that was now a jiggling pile by Adrian’s ankle, but he was powerful enough. In fact, if he wasn’t trapped inside this quarantine all the time, he would have made one hell of a superhero.

 

Adrian opened his mouth, ready to tell him just this, when Max blurted out, “Can the Sentinel give himself any power?”

 

Adrian blinked.

 

“Don’t say that you don’t know,” Max continued hurriedly, “just … pretend you’re guessing, or whatever. That is how it works, right? You’re somehow … I mean, he’s somehow drawing the powers into reality? Or … do you … does the Sentinel actually have power mimicry, and artwork genesis isn’t the original power at all?”

 

Shutting his eyes, Adrian massaged his brow. “I don’t…” He paused and sighed heavily. “Okay, if I had to guess…” He returned his focus to Max, peering at him intently, hoping to convey that should anyone else ask about this, ever, it was only a guess. “He’s still figuring out how many powers he can give himself and the overall extent of the abilities. He’s … sort of making it up as he goes along.”

 

“I figured,” said Max, in a tone that made Adrian bristle. “But do you think … has he tried invincibility yet?”

 

“Invincibility?”

 

“You know. Like the Captain.”

 

Adrian leaned back on his hands. Somehow, he hadn’t given much thought to replicating either of his dads’ powers, or any of the Council’s. Perhaps it felt too much like crossing an uncrossable boundary. He could never become Captain Chromium or the Dread Warden, he could never replace them—and that’s not what any of this was about anyway. But to imbue himself with their abilities, especially the Captain’s invincibility or superstrength, would have seemed almost disrespectful to everything Captain Chromium was, everything the world admired.

 

But at the same time, he knew precisely why Max had asked about this power, among all the superpowers of the world.

 

Because of his invincibility, Hugh Everhart was the only prodigy who could get close to Max. And though Max did a good job of hiding his loneliness, and Adrian largely tried not to think too much about it, in that moment it became clear how much he must yearn for interactions that weren’t divided by a glass wall or a chromium-edged suit.

 

“I don’t know,” he said finally, slowly. “I honestly don’t know.”

 

Max nodded in understanding, and Adrian could tell he wasn’t angry at this response. It was the truth. Adrian didn’t know if he could bestow himself with invincibility, on any level, and certainly not to the level of his dad. Max must have recognized the honesty in his words.

 

But already Adrian’s mind was swirling. Considering. Wondering …

 

“You should go check on Nova.”

 

Adrian startled. “What?”

 

“I bet she’s really freaked out still. It seemed like she actually enjoyed being awake all the time.”

 

“I’m not sure enjoyed is the right word…,” said Adrian, trying to recall her exact words when they had talked about how she spends her time. “But I do think she’s proud of what she accomplished because of it. She doesn’t just read comics and draw, like I probably would. Instead, she made herself into a Renegade.”

 

“Exactly,” said Max, “and I might have taken that away from her.”

 

Shaking his head, Adrian moved to stand. “Never. She’s one of us now, whether she likes it or not.”

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

 

THE COUNCIL’S OFFICES had not been included in the initial tour of Renegades Headquarters on Nova’s first day, but she was aware of their existence. The floor number was posted on the directory in the lobby, and Nova had been intending to come check them out, but she’d had no reason to. Nothing she could have used as an explanation, at least, in the event that someone asked her what she was doing.

 

As she stepped cautiously from the elevator, though, she realized she needn’t have worried. On first arrival, the floor appeared to be deserted. At least, the central receptionist’s desk was unoccupied and Nova could hear no signs of life coming from the open doorway behind it. Her gaze darted around to the security cameras tucked obscurely around the ceiling, and she reminded herself to act natural. To pretend that she had every right to be there.