"Mr. Hatter?"

Jesus Christ.

I arrived at the police station a minute ago, Dayanara accompanying me, but we were unfortunately made to wait. Evidently they've been having some 'difficulties' with Three, which I'm pretty sure just means she hasn't cooperated all that well, but I have no idea in what way.

I hate it when people call me Mr. Hatter. It's my fucking hero name, and I know they're doing it out of respect or something, but still. It sounds stupid and gives me way too much credit. The woman who said it is of a short, pudgy stature, wearing a button down and a police badge. She's cute, with kind features, and it's not like I'm going to be rude or anything about it, but still. If I could have my way, everyone would just call me Harlan.

"We finally got her to calm down. It's been... rough, but she's probably ready for you now." She informs us, and her name is Zaman. I believe she's a sergeant or something, some sort of high ranking, I don't know, I just call her by her last name. She's the officer I work closest with when it comes to villains. We get along well, but again, I will never get used to the whole Mr. Hatter thing. I don't get it. It's not like she calls Day Mrs. Lavina.

"What trouble has she given you?" Day asks Zaman, who sighs. She has a clipboard in her hand, but she pulls it against her chest and crosses her arms at the question. This gives me the sense that she's about to go into story mode, and the fed up look that taints her expression proves that further.

"Well, she hasn't really given us anything. She hardly talks at all, honestly." Zaman begins. "When she does, nothing she says makes sense. She seems scared, for whatever reason, and the only thing useful we've gotten from her is that she seems to have a male boss, which might confirm what we already suspected: the numbered are a part of something much bigger. It's all just speculation, though."

I nod, as does Day, and I'd really like to just get on with this. I've been looking forward to interrogating Three for weeks now, and I understand that the police force needs time to exhaust their other options before turning to heroes, but still. This isn't just any other villain, this is a numbered.

Zaman leads us to the back, where they currently have Three locked inside of an interrogation room. She takes us into the observation room, where we can properly see the woman without having to worry about her seeing us, due to the one way glass.

Except, she's nowhere to be found. "Where is she?"

Day asks that, and Zaman sighs. The woman walks closer to the glass and searches around the room for a moment, before her eyes land on something in the very corner. She points, and only then do I finally spot Three. She's huddled in the corner, with her face buried in her arms, dressed in clothes that were likely lent to her by the police department.

"She's been like that on and off for weeks. We've only recently been able to get her to calm down this much, she was a lot to handle before." Zaman notifies us, and Day responds, but I'm far too distracted by Three to really care.

"Has she been identified?"

"Not yet, but we're making progress."

Three's entire body is shaking, her blonde hair is a complete mess, and she's in a state of constant fidgeting and scratching at her arms and legs. It's a pitiful sight, but I've been sorely lacking in empathy since childhood, so I don't feel all that bad for her. If she didn't want to be in this situation, she probably shouldn't have become a villain.

"Alright, come on," Day tells me, motioning for the door. I follow her on autopilot, unable to help the intense feelings of anticipation I'm experiencing at the moment. I really hope I'm able to get somewhere with this, because we've desperately needed a break in the numbered case for a while. They're just getting too out of hand, I had to break hero law—which sounds scary, but it's really just a bunch of regulations meant to ensure fairness to the villains and keep heroes from abusing their power—in order to catch just one of them.

When we enter the interrogation room, Three is immediately jumping and looking up at us. Her eyes widen upon spotting Dayanara, but when her gaze falls to me, I watch it narrow. Yeah, I guess she and I are likely not on the best terms at the moment. I did throw a motorcycle at her, which kept her hospitalized for a week, after all.

"Can you please take a seat? We'd just like to ask you a few questions."

"I am sitting," Three tells us, voice wobbly, bags under her eyes. I watch Dayanara give her a look, and that's predictably all it takes to get the villain sighing and begrudgingly pulling herself off the floor. Day tends to have that effect, I think it's because she's such a powerful hero and they know they don't really have a choice.

The woman quite literally has one of the most powerful abilities on the planet. Elemental manipulation. She can control fire on a massive, scarily scientific scale. It enables her to fly, after all, if that's any gauge on her sheer mastery in every aspect of her ability. She's a force to be reckoned with.

"Now, would you like to tell us your real name?" Day inquires. She's standing with her arms crossed, her blazing lava eyes focused solely on the villain. Nothing in her expression gives away what she's feeling, if she's even feeling anything. The woman is entirely focused on the villain in the room, face like a stone wall, and that's how it typically goes with us.

Think of it like good cop and bad cop. Except, Day would be more like the... neutral, peacemaking cop, and I'd be the... I don't know; the mind games cop, I guess. So, actually, nothing like good cop and bad cop. We're still a hell of a duo, though. Everything about her compliments everything about me, we were paired together for a reason.

"Three," the woman tells us, quirking an eyebrow like she's confused. She's still very obviously nervous, eyes darting around the room and constant fidgeting so persistent I wonder if it's her natural state. Maybe she's just a really erratic person, I don't know. Wouldn't surprise me.

I'm unsure what exactly I expected in my first real encounter with a numbered, but it wasn't this. I thought they'd be a lot more cocky, more proud of their work. Most villains are, the vast majority of them hold no regrets and actually prefer admitting to what they've done so they get credit for it. It all feels like a weird, almost cutthroat evil competition.

Not with Three, though. Day may not be able to, but I can tell that she isn't lying. Whether it is or not, this girl genuinely believes her name is Three.

I'm not particularly concerned with her identity, though. I'm not even going to ask her why she did it. This is partially to do with what Zaman said, about how we suspect this goes deeper. We have for a while, and I know that I only need to ask a few carefully worded questions to get the answers I crave. It all ties together, I just have to find the ends of the string so I can truly unravel it all.

"And your last name?"

"Three is my only name."

Day and I exchange glances, and I think it's time for me to take over. Lavina has many strengths, but that's mostly in action situations. She's an extremely talented woman, one of the strongest and most powerful heroes of our time. However, when it comes to actually speaking with the villains, to wearing them down until they spill every thought that crosses their mind, I take the gold.

It would help if I could get some visions going. According to Zaman, they've been keeping her only in this room, which gives me the idea that they were counting on my assistance in her investigation from the very beginning. The things I see aren't entirely random, after all. Everything that's happened stays where it happened, I just have to be there to see it.

"Where'd you learn to run like that?" I ask the anxious woman, recalling the expert ways in which she navigated the roads of the greatest city on the planet, Solace International. A misleading name, since our city is ridiculously crime-ridden. To be fair, though, it is the biggest and most diverse city in the world. It's outside of country and state jurisdiction, instead simply considered a district, and it is where the world comes together. It's practically a country in and of itself, the epicenter of humanity as a whole.

So, it would be difficult to run through a busy, unfamiliar street so smoothly that even heroes—who know the city like they designed it themselves—can't keep up. Three had to have been quite familiar with the area to know it like that, giving me the idea that it's close to wherever the numbered are operating from. They all end up in the dead center of the city, eventually, after all. It would make sense.

"Experience," is the predictable answer Three gives me. She's being vague on purpose, most likely because she doesn't think I'll put any pieces together. Unfortunately for her, that's what I'm best at. Catching the bad guys, generally, is what I'm best at.

I think it has something to do with my deeply violent nature, but it's about the only part of my job I enjoy, breaking people down and bringing them to justice. Testing the limits of what I can get away with. Saying it's my favorite aspect of my job would be an understatement. I practically have a dependency on it now. I crave punishment, all the time. If I were to leave hero work then that would be the one thing I'd miss. Well, and the money.

"Experience," I repeat, crossing my arms and studying her. Only a select few people get to see my eyes, though there are obviously pictures all over the internet of me without my utility goggles or sunglasses on. Still, in person? I take fantastic care of my eyes, so it's rare. This means people have a difficult time reading me. Eyes and eyebrows are some of the most expressive features on the face, after all.

It makes me more intimidating. I thrive off of it. "So you've spent a lot of time in that area."

Three's eyes widen, fractionally. It's over in a flash, but she covers it up too late. I still see her reaction, and it only further convinces me I'm right. If we can figure out a general area for the numbered's operations, that could be huge. We'd tear that part of the city down brick by brick, but it would be worth it.

Unfortunately, there's only a select few people who know of the numbered's threat. Well, okay, the news stations do as well. They're constantly blowing everything out of proportion to get clicks and views, and there are a couple people who believe it, but most are able to recognize it for what it is. Media manipulation, cash grabbing, putting anything on a headline that'll get attention. People love stressing about villains, so a group of proven successful villains? Yeah, they eat that shit up.

The heroes are the only ones who know the real threat they pose. We're the only ones who know the media is right, whether they realize it or not. We need to get these people under control. Day agrees with me. Mr. Wolfe agreed with me.

My earlier conversation with Noel crosses my mind. The numbered don't mean anything to me.

Well, looks like I won't be having support on that front anymore. I knew I would, but I'm really starting to miss Mr. Wolfe. More than I thought I would, at least. How was I supposed to know his son would be so...

I don't know how to describe him. All I know is that Noel sucks and is clearly going to pose some opposition in the way of my plans for the numbered. This makes him the enemy, I don't care if he's technically my boss.

"Not necessarily," Three tells me in response to my earlier—and likely correct—observation. She predictably doesn't offer any specification.

"We'll search everywhere from Rosa Avenue to the square, then. Do you have anything else for us?"

Three's gaze flickers again, just a brief dart to the side, and that's when I see it. A dirt smudge on her cheek. It's subtle, but it makes me pause. Her face is clean otherwise, her clothes too—better cared for than I expected. The thing is, dirt smudges are usually a sign of hastily cleaned-up messes.

I get the sense that I'm starting to see some cracks.