The last few days have passed by in a blur. Keeping my head down and my profile low isn't too difficult, especially when Violet is giving me space. She sat several seats down from me instead of next to me in Ethics, which saved me from the trouble of having to deal with the fallout of our shopping trip. The rest of the Cape friend group is also avoiding me, or at least hasn't messaged me. I should probably try to find out what happened. But, honestly, having so much time to myself has really helped with allowing me time to breathe and figure out what Nobody and Eryk's next moves are.

I haven't seen or spoken to any of Momentus since Kai saved my life. The good thing about the way I structured the group is that they are used to me not being around constantly, and they all have jobs to do. Four days to myself is enough time for me to reflect on what happened that other night. I fucked up. That was messier than any night since I first triggered and had to kill Marcus. I didn't get this far by being impulsive and letting these pieces control me. I behaved like a reckless psychopath, and it could've cost me everything. I need to reset for a bit before things spiral.

The lights in my apartment are dimmed, but I can still see well enough to write at my desk. I need to go over the last few months to see whether this is a recent change or part of a larger pattern of behavior. Opening my fridge, I grab a beer before sitting down at the desk to write. The sound of the can cracking open is such a nice sound. The first few sips of the delicious liquid right out of the fridge are the best. Already, I'm feeling a bit better, and that will only continue the more I drink. There aren't a lot of things that can't be fixed with a beer or two. I finish the first can before I even write a single word, so I grab another from the fridge. As I'm about to crack it open, I stop. Looking at the beer, the nasty brown water that I used to hate the taste of, I come to a realization that I must have been subconsciously ignoring: I have a drinking problem.

The last time I went a day without drinking heavily was before that party where I met Sy. How the fuck didn't I notice this? How did I let myself get infested with such weakness? I start writing down all the possible interactions that could have jeopardized my goals, ignoring the overwhelming urge to dismiss the idea that I may be responsible. When did I become so arrogant? Attacking Todd, blatantly threatening two students, antagonizing The Merchants, and assaulting a hotel full of regular people, spraying Glow Guardian with acid, using my powers in public without my helmet, repeatedly getting blackout drunk, murdering Vixen and Hank without any precautions ot protect my identity, and then letting X-Train know who I am as well as declaring war on him. What the fuck have I been doing? I need to remove Froggy, Tramp, Punch, Null, and Echochamber before I ruin all that I've built. This kind of behavior is how I ended up blindsided by Technologica. I text Vivienne that I need to go to the base and then grab my helmet. I haven't lost yet; there is still plenty of time to right the ship, and it all starts with getting these pieces out of me.

"You okay, Nobody?" Vivienne asked as she turns onto the street where our base is located.

I take a second to think. Should I tell her the truth? If this were before Zero, I wouldn't even have to think about it; I'd just tell her what was on my mind. Now, the fact that I'm hesitating speaks volumes.

"Have you noticed any changes in me in the last few months? Or any actions that seem out of character for me?" I asked.

"What kind of changes are you talking about? I mean, you've been preoccupied a lot. It kinda feels like sometimes you aren't really here when you're here. But I know how much you have going on, so I'm not surprised if you're a bit distracted. Besides that, you've been acting pretty normal. Why do you ask?" V asked.

"No reason. By the way, I'm sure you heard from Miles how his debut went."

"Yeah, I did. Little guy popped off, gotta give it to him. He might have had a better debut than me, and that's a high bar to reach," she laughed.

"We'll have to wait for everyone to debut before we can rank them, but you two are frontrunners for sure. Also, that night I had to fight off a guy called Hank, and you would've been proud. I was able to put our training into practice, and it saved my life," I said.

"You fought another person? Why do I keep missing everything? We need to have a night out, just you and me like the good ole days," Vivienne said.

"I'll let you know as soon as something comes up. How's the base coming along?"

"It's done; Kai's working on the apartments now, and Rorschach is overseeing the design of it," she answered. "But they should be back in an hour or two."

Finally, a good piece of news. We pull onto the small road leading to the parking lot. I can tell just how much Kai has done, and we're not even past the security checkpoint. What was a cracked asphalt road with weeds and chunks split off is now freshly paved and perfectly smooth. The checkpoint used to be a speed bump, a dilapidated security booth, and a shoddy wooden barrier. Now it's all completely automated, thick four-foot-tall steel poles are protruding out of the ground, and a large metal gate is connected to the new fence. Can it even be called a fence now? It has less in common with the rusty chain link fence it used to be and the elevated cement walls that curve slightly out at the top. I spot at least eight cameras watching us as Vivienne goes through the three-step security process. First, a retina scan, then a key card she taps on the screen, and finally a PIN exclusive to her. Well done, Kai. He is deserving of a reward of some kind.

Vivienne finishes the security check, and only then do the poles lower and the gate opens. She drives through the gate, entering the compound, and I can't believe what I'm seeing. The parking lot that looked like it was ground zero for missile testing is completely redone. Jet black pavement with perfect yellow lines, and the storage warehouse that was on the verge of collapsing any second, is replaced with a three-story parking garage complete with a helicopter pad and a skyway connecting it to the plant. There's enough space here for hundreds of employees. The plant itself is magnificent, larger than it was before, but with new life breathed into it. It doesn't even resemble the original building; now it's got an innovative design that Daniel would love. The top two floors have large glass windows wrapping around them: offices for anyone who needs them. The smoke stacks are removed, and huge windows dot the top of the manufacturing area, letting plenty of natural light in. The overall building is white with blue trim, with Momentus Inc in massive blue letters, stylized to look like they're moving. What Kai has accomplished is seriously exceptional.

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"Wow," I said.

"I know, we all said the same thing. The doc absolutely crushed it," she responded. "The inside is even crazier. There are multiple elevators that can take you to any floor, including the lab and the other floor he added below. Even the parking lot has them."

Finally. No more marathon jogs just to get around. Vivienne drives over and parks inside the garage. I activate my mask, putting it on my face; I've spotted another six cameras since we parked, and that's just the ones I found. V leads me to the elevators, and there are two empty vending machines, one on either side of the two doors. He's really put a lot of thought into this. I'm glad they aren't stocked yet; that would be a complete waste of money. Rorschach would explode if we wasted money on something like that. We step inside, and Vivienne holds her key card against the touch screen display with the floor numbers, emergency close and open, and contact authorities icons. The screen changes, switching to night mode and offering two additional destinations now. LB is laboratory, but what's SSB?

"Hey, what's SSB stand for?"

"Funny story, we all put a name in a hat to decide on what the additional floor would be called. Tuesday's name got picked, so SSB stands for Super Secret Base," V answered, scratching her chin awkwardly.

God damn it. That's kind of a funny name. I stay silent, holding in the laugh threatening to come out. I can't give Tuesday the satisfaction. The ride down is smooth, and I can barely notice we're moving. The doors open, and my words get stuck in my throat. It's magnificent, the room is reminiscent of a Greek temple built in Plutus' name. Quartz pillars inlaid with veins of onyx hold up the raised dome ceiling in a display of wealth and opulence that would make most people nauseous. The recessed lights are covered by multicolored crystals, dying the room in splatters of mosaic lighting like that of a fae realm of rainbows. Artwork lines the walls that can only be part of Rorschach's collection because the price tag alone is worth more than four years of my rent. There are seven branching paths that all lead to different rooms, one for each of us. The path directly in front of me is dark, and it can only be mine. The polished basalt floors have swirls carved into them filled with silver dust, and the center of the room has three Latin words written in cursive.

"Nihil, Nusquam, Nullus?" I asked.

"Nothing, Nowhere, Nobody. It was a group decision," V said quickly.

This kind of thing might be touching if I still had any feelings for Vivienne. But I don't. All that remains of our friendship is the dull ache of a wound that will never heal. I smile graciously, knowing my helmet will mimic my face if I look sad.

"Thank you, V. This place looks expensive."

"Oh, it was. But Rorschach said we could afford it, and she's the one in charge of the money," V responded.

"I don't doubt that we can afford it, but you and I should take a moment to look over the books. It's one thing to trust someone experienced with your money, but it's always good to know what our finances look like," I said.

"Understood," V said.

"By the way, have you finished your costume design? I'd like to have Rorschach send them to Alchemist by the end of the week at the latest. The sooner we're all suited up, the sooner we can start making more overt moves."

Vivienne blushes slightly, scratching the back of her head.

"Yeah, I finished the design days ago. It's fucking sick. I'm going to look like a badass," she exclaimed.

"Good. I also finished mine over the last few days."

"I somehow doubt that yours will be anything other than aggressively efficient. Is there any chance that it isn't completely monochromatic?" Vivienne asked hopefully.

"It has color," I said defensively.

Is it mostly white and sterile? Yes, but it has a splash of color in there as well.

I hear running from my right as Tuesday rushes out of her area. Sliding across the floor on some white bunny slippers, she's smiling at the two of us in a way that can only mean trouble. What now? I haven't seen her since the night with The Merchants.

"Hey, Nobody. You don't text, you don't call, you don't respond to my handwritten letters that my improperly trained owls deliver?" Tuesday whined.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"I never took you for that kind of guy. The kind to just ravage a woman's body and not even give her the time of day after. Oh woe is me for I have fallen for he who cannot ever love me so," Tuesday announced, adopting an accent that I believe is meant to be Shakespeare.

Neither Vivienne nor I responds, waiting for her to get to whatever ridiculous point she's aiming for.

"Hello? Is this thing on?" Tuesday tapped her throat, and a noise like microphone feedback came out. "The Doctor used my DNA to fix you, bossman. I'm inside you, which I honestly thought wouldn't happen till you let me do the cat's cradle in your prostate, but peggers can't be choosers. Still, now our relationship is forever changed, and only one thing can make it right."

"And what's that?" I asked.

"Since my DNA is in you, you gotta put some in me. A little bit of baby batter, sperm splatter; let me get some genetic juice, baws," Tuesday said, now doing a deep Italian man's voice.

"I'm going to be sick," Vivienne complained, holding her hand over her mouth.

"Absolutely fucking not going to be doing that. Did you decide on your Cowl name and costume?" I asked.

"I'm Tuesday, I don't need a Cowl name because I already have the most creative name of all time," she said.

"Tuesday, have your design and your Cowl name done by the end of today. I'm not joking; I don't care what you pick, but you will pick a name," I ordered.

"God, you're like a vibes vampire, you suck so much. Fine, I want my Cowl name to be Super Mega Sex Queen Killsaplenty. It's not Tuesday, so it's acceptable, right?"

"No more than two words, no verbs, no references to fucking or killing, nothing that rhymes with Tuesday. Just pick one or two nouns that you like and call it a day," I said.

She's starting to really irritate me now. How hard is it to just follow directions?

"You never let me do anything fun; I fuckin' hate it here. It's so much better at Mom's house, and her boyfriend Jeff's cool as shit. I'm gonna make it something dumb just to spite you," Tuesday mumbled as she walked back down her hallway, kicking an imaginary can.

"I could always put her in a headlock until she passes out," Vivienne offered.

"No, she'd probably orgasm, and then you'd be pissed. When did you say Rorschach and Kai would be back? I need to talk to both of them."

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