Mr. Dracos was droning on again, this time about social studies, and as per usual, I was barely paying attention. But unlike other days, when Red Justice stuff usually consumed my mind, that space had been taken up by yesterday's events — Jimmy Bullard—a theoretically abused kid.

  I clenched my fist just thinking about it. The signs were there: the bruising, the way he always wore long sleeves, his aloof, shy manner. I was about to charge over to Jimmy's house if Gavin hadn't stopped me. He said it was only a theory — I couldn't just jump the gun. I briefly glanced at Jimmy; he stared ahead and occasionally scribbled notes.

  I saw him rub his stomach and wince. My blood simmered. Theory, my butt — we had to do something. But I trusted Gavin's judgment; he was the veteran here, after all. Jimmy never spoke to me; in fact, he avoided eye contact entirely. Luckily, we didn't have to do our group project that day — that would have been awkward.

  I was definitely going to do something more awkward later. Time passed, and class ended. I went home and stayed for about half an hour, eating some fried chicken Mom had cooked. After that, I left the house, but I wasn't heading to Gavin's shop. I palmed a small object from my pocket and tucked it into my left ear — a spy-style comm from Gavin's generation.

  The walk took about ten minutes, and there it was: the Bullard residence—ordinary, nothing special, but I still gulped when I saw it. Through my Mind's Eye, I could make out a small silhouette writing at a desk while a larger one moved inside the house. Taller — about my dad's height, if a little shorter. This must be Mr. Bullard.

  My hands felt clammy, and a part of me wanted to run.

  "What's up, feeling nervous?" Gavin asked through the earpiece.

  I swallowed. I'd been in worse situations, so this shouldn't bother me as much. Not to mention, I'd done something similar with the Shinichi family — though, unlike them, I hadn't suspected anyone of abusing their child. Jacob Shinichi might be a robber, but he didn't feel...dirty. He didn't feel like the kind of scum Mr. Bullard did.

  Not all crimes are the same; context matters. I took a deep breath and sharpened my gaze.

  "Let's do this."

  "Right. But remember — don't do anything reckless, not until we get all the facts."

  I walked up and knocked a couple of times. The larger silhouette turned to the door, paused, then opened it. The doorway revealed a man a bit older than my dad, with dirty blonde hair and a scruffy beard. He had hazel eyes and skin slightly more tanned than Jimmy's.

  Thomas Bullard looked... normal. I ran a quick search through the SEE Goggles database yesterday: photo, name, job — office worker at some corporation. I didn't know what I'd expected; maybe some balding, angry guy ranting about the world while waving a beer bottle, reeking of alcohol and stained tank tops.

  But he looked like a well-adjusted person — a guy who pays his taxes. He wore a white polo and a tie. Sure, he smelled faintly of booze and smoke, but it wasn't overpowering as I'd imagined.

  He blinked at me once, then gave a small, polite smile. "Yes, can I help you?" His voice was calm, casual.

  For half a second, my brain stalled. This is the guy? Was Jimmy really being abused, or just a kid who got into fights, which would explain the bruises, but not the look of fear I'd seen on him yesterday? The fact that he'd seemed terrified of his dad told me maybe something darker lurked beneath that polite smile.

  I forced myself to smile back, making myself look smaller while keeping my eyes sharp for any hint of something wrong. "Uh — hi, sir. I'm Ben. From Jimmy's class." I lifted my backpack a little. "We're doing a habitat project together."

  Recognition flickered across his face. "Oh. The school project." He nodded. "Right, he mentioned that." He opened the door wider without hesitation. "Come in."

  I froze for a couple of seconds, then gulped and stepped inside, scanning the place without making it obvious. The house smelled of coffee and lemon air freshener. It was simpler than my house, nothing noteworthy.

  A picture frame near a crucifix caught my eye: a family photo. Jimmy was about five, grinning; Thomas was making a goofy face beside a woman with light blonde hair and the same eye colour as Jimmy. Again — is this really the guy who would hurt his kid?

  "Get your head in the game." Gavin's voice crackled in my ear. I flinched. "Things are never as they seem. Be on your guard."

  Thomas shut the door behind me. "Jimmy's in his room," he said, then called up, "Jimmy! Your friend's here!" There was no sharpness in his tone — just a normal dad calling his kid.

  A muffled, stuttering reply came from upstairs. "C-coming!"

  Footsteps thumped down, fast then slower. Jimmy appeared at the top of the stairs and looked at us — at me — with alarmed eyes. He gulped and opened his mouth, but no words came. He trembled for a beat, then slid back into his usual passive expression.

  "Oh. Ben," he said flatly. "You came."

  Thomas glanced between us.

  "You forgot he was coming over or something?"

  "No. Just... didn't expect him this early."

  "That's great. You want something to drink? I've got juice. Ben, was it?"

  Before I could respond, Jimmy cut him off. "No, we're fine, Dad." He said it too quickly.

  Thomas stilled; his eyes narrowed, and I could see his fingers twitch. I straightened.

  "I wasn't asking you," He said coldly.

  A chill crawled up my spine. I narrowed my eyes at him, clenching my fist — feeling a red spark of Cosmic Energy dance between my knuckles.

  "Easy, Ben..." Gavin murmured in my ear.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Easy? How could I take it easy? The way Thomas said that sounded...wrong. I tried to think back to the times my parents had gotten angry — I'd never heard them use that tone.

  Never.

  I get that not all parents are the same, but something about Thomas didn't sit right. In the corner of my eye, I could see Jimmy paling and looking away from us.

  "Chill out. Move this conversation along — it's clear you aren't getting anywhere," Gavin said.

  He was right. Standing here like an idiot wouldn't change anything. I cleared my throat and got both Bullards' attention. "I'm alright, Th— Mr. Bullard. I'm not very thirsty at the moment."

  He raised a brow and shrugged. "Suit yourself. Alright. Holler if you need anything." He waved and went into the kitchen.

  Jimmy grabbed my sleeve and pulled me toward his room. Normally, he wouldn't even budge me, but I allowed him to pull me. He closed the door quietly and let out a sigh.

  "Why are you here?" he asked.

  I didn't answer at first; I looked around his room. It was... plain. Even my room — which is boring — has character. It looked like a hotel room, like someone only lived there for short stretches.

  "Why are you here?" He repeated, slower this time, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

  "Project," I murmured.

  "Now? You didn't even ask to come by my house." He shook his head. "No — it doesn't matter. You need to leave right now."

  I raised an eyebrow. Really pushy. "Why, you got something more important to do?"

  "No—yes," Jimmy said, trying to look composed but clearly nervous.

  From downstairs, Thomas popped open a bottle and started taking large gulps.

  "Look, you need to go." He reached for me, and I pulled back.

  "Okay, slow down. You're acting like I'm in danger—" I caught him cringing slightly. "—but it's okay. Besides, we've got to do our project."

  "That can wait till later... just please, you need to leave."

  Seeing him like this made me feel bad. I didn't care about the bruises or his cronies anymore. Right now, I just wanted to help this scared kid.

  "Jimmy... if something's wrong, I can help."

  His face flickered with fear for a second before hardening. "No. You can't."

  His hardened expression, though, quickly melted away to a tired, pleading one.

  "I don't want him to hurt you, too."

  My chest tightened. There it is. Not proof. But close. I was about to tell him that it's okay, that I can help, but Gavin's voice within the earpiece quickly called out.

  "Ben... that's enough. We now know that things aren't pretty. Leave and return to the shop."

  My eyes widen, and I grit my teeth. Now!? Of all times!? Jimmy pretty much confirmed that his dad is hurting him, and Gavin is telling me to leave!? And Thomas, I knew there was something about him.

  But hurting his own flesh and blood, who could do that? It doesn't matter; it's time for him to be sent to the hospital with broken teeth. I moved aggressively to the front door. Jimmy blinked before his eyes widened, putting his hands on my chest.

  "Stop!" He whispered harshly, yet there was a hint of brokenness in his voice. "You'll only make things worse."

  "Ben, stand down now! You're just going to put Jimmy in danger."

  Me!? I'm only trying to help him! Not trying to beat him! Jimmy's pleading eyes stopped me, making me calm down, though I was still very frustrated. Silently, I pulled my bag strap to my shoulder more securely before leaving silently out of Jimmy's bedroom.

  I felt Jimmy walk behind me as I stepped down the stairs. Thomas exited the kitchen, holding a bottle of Brandi.

  "Hey, what's up? It hasn't been thirty minutes?"

  Jimmy answered for me. "Sorry dad, Ben got dizzy. It's okay, we'll just finish up the work at a later date."

  "I...see." He said slowly.

  I almost didn't catch it, but he glared at Jimmy. It wasn't one parent's use on their kids when they are doing something dumb or embarrassing, no, this was the look you shoot on an enemy. I wanted to clobber him right then and there, regardless of Gavin's orders. I exited the house, Jimmy giving me a small, awkward wave before closing the door. I looked at the house for a very long time before I started to walk away.

  Once I got far enough, Gavin chimed in.

  "Okay, time to get invisible."

  My eyes widened. Oh, so this was his plan. I closed my eyes, feeling out the area for any potential witness, but there wasn't one; everyone was at their homes, distracted by something. But just in case, I moved near the side of the house and started vibrating. Eventually, because of how fast I'm going, my body was now invisible to the naked eye.

  I quickly zoomed to the Bullard Residence before focusing on sharpening Mind's Eye. The smaller silhouette, Jimmy, stood by the door before shifting to head upstairs, but froze. In the kitchen, Thomas was crossing arms, probably speaking or giving him a nasty glare. That's one weakness about Mind's Eye: it gives me a clue what's happening. Showing what's actually going on past the walls.

  But never the context. It's like watching a show with no sound. You can sort of tell what's happening through physical action, but nothing about the dialogue or the specific details of what is happening. And because they are silhouettes, I can't even tell if they're talking or not.

  Thomas's silhouette suddenly moved. His arm shot out and grabbed Jimmy by the shoulder. Even through Mind's Eye, I could see the jerk of force as Jimmy was yanked backward. The smaller silhouette stumbled, nearly losing balance before Thomas hauled him toward the kitchen.

  My breath hitched. Jimmy's outline resisted for half a second, but gave up immediately as if knowing it was pointless. They crossed into the kitchen area. Thomas turned him around sharply. I saw his arm rise. Then it came down.

  A sharp, violent motion.

  My mind didn't even process it at first. It was like my brain rejected what my eyes were telling me. I feel like Thomas Bullard was that kind of person. It was honestly baffling how a parent could do that to their child.

  "Ben?" Gavin's voice crackled in my earpiece. "Ben, report. What are you seeing?"

  I couldn't answer. I was frozen like a deer facing headlights. Thomas' silhouette shook his head before pointing upstairs, Jimmy without any fight or sign of rebellion, walked up, his hand hung low. Submissively. Then, acting like nothing just happened, Thomas sipped on alcohol again while sitting on the couch, turning on the TV. Once my brain rebooted, my body was suddenly washed by something hot.

  It was an emotion that I only reserved for pieces of garbage like Atlas. It was fury. My vision trembled. My teeth clenched so hard my jaw hurt. Red Cosmic Energy sparked around my hands.

  The ground beneath my feet cracked. I approached the house slowly, as the ground trembled slightly, not enough to cause an earthquake, though I wouldn't be surprised if I did.

  "Ben." Gavin's tone sharpened. "Talk to me."

  "He's hurting him," I growled.

  "I know," Gavin said immediately. "But you cannot storm in there. You hear me? That will make it worse."

  Another tremor pulsed from my stance.

  "Ben," He tried again, calmer. "You rushing in as Red Justice could blow this up legally. We need proof. We do this right."

  My mind flashed to Jimmy's silhouette being struck. "I'll end this now."

  Gavin snapped, "You really think brute-forcing your way will solve the problem!? You know that even with your powers, you have limits. You want to see Jimmy safe, right!? Then we do it the right way!"

  That made me pause. The energy simmering from my body dies down a little. The rational part of my brain told me to calm down, that Gavin is right and is the most experienced veteran, so we could trust him. But the other part of me demanded, no, roared for me to knock this scum down. I grit my teeth so hard it hurts.

  Then—

  BOOM.

  I launched upward. The street exploded with wind pressure as I shot into the sky like a red comet. Clouds split apart as I blasted past them, and the small town of Harvest Hills became distant and distant until it was out of sight. Then a couple of seconds later, my feet touched the moon's surface.

  My chest burned. My heart pounded. My eyes felt hot and glowed a fiery red. With a primal roar. Twin optic blasts tore forward into space, red beams stretching endlessly into the void. I swept them across the stars, releasing the rage inside me.

  After several seconds, I shut my eyes, clenching my fist. My shoulders slumped. Silence.

  "...You done?" Gavin's voice came quietly through the comms.

  I swallowed. "...Yeah."

  "Do you feel better?"

  "...A little."

  "Good," Gavin said gently. "Because Jimmy still needs you. You may have the heart of a hero, but you also need to have the mind of one too; otherwise, even with good intentions, people will get hurt."

  I looked back at Earth. I released a tired sigh.

  "...Okay, what's next?" I whispered.