Adrian took two steps out of the elevator and his breath hitched.
He had heard that Council Hall was a marvel, and he knew there were people who made up all sorts of petitions just for a chance to come and see it, but he still hadn’t been fully prepared. A white-marble walkway stretched out before him, enclosed on either side by a wall of water that spanned from the floor to the high ceiling. The water was not solid like ice, nor was it moving like a waterfall, but rather seemed to just hang there, suspended in space, trembling from the air vibrations as Prism walked past. He wondered what would happen if he touched it. Would it be like bursting a bubble? Would the delicate equilibrium be broken and the wall come crashing down onto the floor? Or would his hand go right through, no different from submerging it in a pool?
He would have to ask one of his dads later.
And then there were the lights—tiny speckles of golden light drifting aimlessly over their heads, reminiscent of winking fireflies. Though not one was any larger than a speck of dust, together they gave the impression of something serene and alive, like glowing algae drifting on a wave. They filled the space with a warm hue, and the reflection off the water made rhythms of light dance along the walkway. The effect was hypnotic and tranquil and Adrian felt more like he had just entered a supernatural day spa than the hall of their official governing body.
At the end of the walkway stood five chromium thrones. He knew he shouldn’t think of them as thrones—the Council got defensive whenever anyone suggested they were trying to become royalty—but he didn’t know how else one could describe the massive seats that sat in a semicircle around a slender podium.
Blacklight and Tsunami sat in the first two chairs on Adrian’s left—no doubt they were responsible for the water and lighting effects in the hall, which only made him more curious. Did the water and floating lights stay when they weren’t around, or did they send them away at night, transforming the hall into … well, just a hall?
Then there was Captain Chromium in the center seat, followed by the Dread Warden, both wearing their superhero faces—kind but stern.
The fifth and final seat was occupied by Thunderbird, her posture stiff and craned slightly forward to leave space for her wings, which were opened and curling around the back of the seat.
Perhaps the most unnerving part of seeing them there was that his dads, like the others, were wearing their iconic superhero uniforms—not the gray bodysuits the current Renegades wore, but the vigilante costumes they had long ago become famous for. The Dread Warden in his black cape and domino mask. The Captain in muscle-defining Lycra and shoulder armor.
Adrian had known their identities since he could remember, since years before he’d even become an official member of their family. Just like he’d known that his mom was the amazing and ferocious Lady Indomitable. They never tried to keep it a secret. But despite knowing the facts of their alter egos, there had always been a disconnect in his mind. A gap between the superheroes the world idolized and the adoptive dads who wore sweatpants and stained T-shirts and who had a monthly tradition of eating an entire tray of cinnamon rolls for dinner while watching cheesy sci-fi movies.
“Announcing to the Council,” said Prism, “Mr. Adrian Everhart. Mr. Oscar Silva. Miss Ruby Tucker. And Miss Nova McLain.” She stepped aside, motioning for them to approach the podium.
Adrian stepped in front of the others, though he could feel their presence as they filed in around him.
Kasumi was the first to speak. “Welcome, Renegades,” she said—congenial enough, but so formal. It felt surreal to be standing there before them, in this magnificent hall. Kasumi, Evander, and Tamaya had all been to their house for a dozen dinner parties. He’d met their spouses at backyard barbecues. He’d babysat Tamaya’s kids when he was younger.
But they weren’t those same people here. They were Tsunami and Blacklight and Thunderbird. They were the Council. It almost made Adrian laugh, which is how he realized how nervous he really was.
“We are here,” said Captain Chromium, “to discuss what happened at the Cloven Cross Library. I have already informed the Council of what you told me, but I think we all want to hear it again, from your perspective. I hope you all can recognize the tricky position you’ve put us in. On one hand, we are of course grateful that a major supplier of black-market weaponry has been shut down, and that your efforts revealed the active status of the Detonator and the Anarchists.”
“On the other hand,” said the Dread Warden, “you were expressly ordered not to engage with the Librarian, and not to even enter the library without backup. You disobeyed a direct order, and as such, we feel some consequences are in order.”
“First things first,” said Kasumi. “We want to commend you for following the protocol of prioritizing the safety of civilians. We understand you all acted fast to clear the library of innocent bystanders, and we have heard how Miss McLain went back into the library to rescue a young boy from the fire. We praise you for your bravery and selflessness.”
Adrian glanced sideways at Nova, sending her a small smile, but she kept her gaze straight ahead and her expression neutral.
“That said,” continued Kasumi, “we cannot overlook the protocols that went ignored, or how the need for rescuing said civilians might have been avoided entirely had you acted more responsibly.”
Adrian swallowed.
“It’s important that we get all the facts straight,” said Tamaya. “You aren’t in trouble, necessarily.” She paused, and Adrian had the distinct impression that she was glancing over the word yet. “But it is of utmost importance that we all abide by our own rules. Otherwise, we’d be no better than the Anarchists.”
Beside him, Nova tensed, and he heard her mutter, “Because that would be terrible.”