Three Months Later.

No. 62 of Claremond Street looks...still the same. The dull auburn porch still complains with a shrieking wheeze whenever any amount of weight's been introduced. The outer walls are a yellowish-grey. And the roof is just barely hanging on.

But the lawn has been mowed and weeded off, a sea of yellow - daffodils, marigolds, primroses and lilies - bordering the whitewashed fences.

Tony glances at this lawn from the kitchen window, nose scrunched up, brows crinkled. Yes, he doesn't like the way the lawn looks, but he's not cringing because of it this moment. He's found the sponge he used last month while scrubbing the grime off the window. It looks nastier than the dead rat he found at the attic two weeks ago.

"Anthony, are you done cleaning?" Grandma Sue's voice chimes in. She's in a full-length mirror now, made by her first grandson for her birthday last week, placed in the adjacent room for today's household chore supervision. Dressed in the same khaki uniform, but red hair braided, Sue sits on an ornate oak chair, gaze locked on her ticking pocket watch.

Tony shakes his head but says, "Yes, almost." He cringes the longer he stares at the sponge. He doesn't want to touch it.

A mischievous smile tugs at his lips. He can do something else.

Eyes squinted to the extreme, and a hand few inches away from the ghastly object, Tony takes in a deep breath. Just like how he's been doing in his daily power training sessions with Grandma Sue. He focuses harder, his hand growing cold by the minute. His grin grows when the sponge disappears the next moment.

Tony pats his own shoulder. Ha, he's done it again. Humming, he strolls out, placing his hands in his apron pockets while looking at the refurnished cabinets and freshly painted walls. The lawn and the kitchen has taken him and Tom the entire summer to clean this. For the first time, Tony regrets utilizing this time for cleaning; he wanted to play all sorts of games with his brother and their new friends.

Tony is exhausted by the time he's in the drawing room, plopping on the sole couch. He glances at the wall before him as he lays back. What was Mr. Ivy Man's dwelling place has now been filled with bricks and concrete, followed by a hurried layer of paint.

Tony sighs. The investigators from the ICJ still have no idea of why Michael killed him.

"Get off the couch," Sue's voice orders, making Tony jump. Right, the mirror's in front of him. "We have a lot more things to do today. So no rest till then."

Tony, who sits upright, groans. "But Grandma Sue, we've done so much already."

Sue crinkles her brows. "You've just done one room. There are a total of nineteen rooms in this house, and time's ticking. You need to set your house properly before school begins this Thursday."

Tony sighs. But before he can agree, someone steps in. More specifically, trudges in.

Tony has grown three inches taller this summer, but he's still way shorter than a Tom. The way Tom's slouched behind him, placing his hands over his shoulders, Tony feels like he's going to collapse under his weight.

So Tony shrugs his shoulders out of it. He tries to.

Tom exhales slowly, sweat highlighting the creases on his forehead as he says this, "We have 3 rooms left, Grandma."

Tony looks up. "What?"

Tom nods, a weary grin on his face. "I'll show them later, Grandma Sue. Let's take a break for now."

Sue shakes her head in disapproval as Tom plops on the coach, dragging Tony along with him. "You were supposed to follow the rules, Thomas. No superpowers allowed while cleaning."

Tony goes pale hearing this. He stops fighting his brother and remains a few inches near him. 

"But we did require the house to be clean before we start school," Tom explains. "And it counts as my training as well. I was supposed to morph into Gladys Quickstag today."

Tony flits his gaze to him. Gladys Quickstag? The world's fastest Sprinter? "Then shouldn't you have cleaned all of the rooms then?" he asks, crossing his arms.

Sue sighs, rubbing her forehead. "Boys, cleaning is one of the many things you should do without your superpowers. You must blend in with the common folk. They're not used to people like us-"

The door bell rings, followed by two knocks on the door.

Tony uses this opportunity to get away. "I'll check who's there," he says, getting up from his seat. He casts a sloppy smile and avoids Sue's stern gaze as he walks out of the room.

"I'll come too," A haggard Tom says, his baggy clothes sticking to his skin as he gets up.  

"Not so fast, Thomas," Sue's voice stops him midway. Tom clams his jaws. He knows what she's about to say.

"You already do know why I've stopped you," Sue says, leaning back in her chair. The edges of the mirror she's in glow a dim azure. "So answer my question."

Tom turns back. "What question?"

"Have you told Tony yet?"

Tom rubs the back of his neck, dropping his gaze to his grandma's pocket watch. "No. But I will tell soon."  He slightly flinches when Sue tightens her grip on her pocket watch with her bony fingers.

"By when, Thomas? When you have to answer by tonight?" 

Tom shifts in his stance. "Is there any news on Michael?" 

Sue sighs, drumming her fingers on the chair arm. 

Everyone knew Michael killed himself, until the forensics reports started to fly in. Apparently, traces of his DNA at the crime scene has been found. Despite the rogue Covert agent obliterating himself with extreme heat. 

"No," Sue answers. "But they've captured a potential accomplice."

Tom's eyes sparkle with surprise for a moment. "Potential accomplice? Who is it?"

"I don't know, Thomas. They haven't disclosed it yet."

Tom exhales slowly. He doesn't believe her. Grandma Sue knows every crucial member of the superhero organization.

Sue glances at her pocket watch when it beeps alarmingly. "Time does fly by quickly. I have to attend the general meeting." She glances at her grandson. "The ICJ is waiting for your response, Thomas. And you must tell Tony before that. Don't keep any more secrets between you two-"

"-we only have each other," Tom completes the sentence. This has been repeated countless number of times these past three months.

Sue casts a heart-warming smile, though Tom feels the opposite. "Good." The mirror glows a neon blue, and the next moment she and the chair disappear.

Tom exhales slowly. What is he going to do? Say yes or no? Tell Tony... maybe not.

"Heya."

Tom flinches, gasping as he turns back. A wide grin forms on his lips.

"Chloe, you scared the wits out of me!"

"Finalmente! {finally}," Chloe says, grinning back. She looks stunning in her tee and shorts, her brown hair pulled into a messy bun. Tom tries to hide his flushed cheeks by covering his face, glancing at the other two guests who have arrived.

"What in the hell are you wearing, Thomas Meredith Banks?" Alexa says, her brows arched. She removes her hands from her purple hoodie pockets, tugging her sunglasses down to reveal her gawking eyes; her purple one more startled than the other.

Tony giggles as he enters, like always when he hears his brother's middle name.

"Meredith?" Milo blurts out, standing beside Chloe. They're equal in height now. He narrowly misses his sister's elbow when he laughs.

Tom rolls his eyes. "Whatever." He notices the basket of gifts in Alexa's hands.

"They're not for you, don't worry," Alexa says, heading to the couch. She sits on the floor though, leaning her back on the couch. She places the basket on her laps. "Tony, come here before I start to tear open each one."

"No," Tony says, darting to her. Last time, Alexa offered to help him open a bag of chips. The chips crumbled before she could open it.

Tom and Chloe chuckle, while Milo shakes his head. They all join in, sitting in a circle, the basket at its center.

"First up," Alexa says, drumming her fingers on the floor. She stops when everyone else is alarmed by the slight trembling. "Congrats, Tony, on making it to Maven Academy." She refrains from patting his shoulder. "That too, in the Alpha batch!"

Tony casts a smile grin. "I'm only on Level 3." 

"Disparates {Nonsense}," Milo cuts in. He pulls his knees closer to his chest. "You're lucky you're on 3 and not at -5." 

Tony looks away. Nobody can understand him. Both his parents appeared on Level 10, the fifth highest rank, at the time of their admissions. And Tom, don't even ask.

"Okay," Tom says, clasping his hands together. "What have you guys brought for our special Invis today?" His hand reaches for the basket, but Alexa stops it. With a light hit.

"Ow!" Tom yelps, withdrawing his hand. He smiles when he sees his brother laugh for a bit.

"NOT for you," Alexa responds with a sly grin. "Now Tony. Grab that big, purple gift from the basket first."

"Okay." Tony unwraps the gift, gasping when he lifts the um- what's it called again?

Alexa laughs, seeing Tony's baffled expression. "It's a Geowielder. Used to be Grandpop's. You can manipulate the ground around you."

Tom raises a brow at this. What now?

"How did I forget Phillip Barrings' Geowielder?" Tony says, marveling the silver wrench, leaves carved into the handle.

"It's not that powerful anymore," Alexa explains, waving a hand. "You can only manipulate a bit of ground, in limited places."

Tom exhales slowly, shaking his head. He's worried for nothing.

"You're lucky it works well in Maven Academy."

"Wow," Tony says, while Tom nervously chuckles. "Thanks, Alexa." He places the Geowielder back in its box.

"Okay, now my turn," Milo says, taking out a small box wrapped in blue. But before he could hand it over to Tony, a cylindrical box lands on the latter's hands. "Oh, vamos {come on}!" 

"Estabas tardando demasiado {You were taking too long}, Milo," Chloe refutes. "Here's my regalo {gift}, Tony."

Tony grins, opening the cylinder. A scroll falls out when he tilts it. His brows furrow when he sees an old floor plan.

"It's the map of Maven Academy," Chloe explains. "You tap on each room, and the embedded sensors would reveal everything and everyone's that's in there." She leans closer. "Especially the secret passageways."

"What?" Tom blurts out. Not that Tony's been handed another dangerous thing, Chloe has had it all this time? No wonder she always knew where he was.

"So that's what the moving dots are?" Tony says, starstruck. He reads the notes scribbled at the bottom. "Oh, the yellow ones are the Mentors, and...scrambled chesseggs!" He looks up. "Hairy's in the second floor."

Tom rubs his forehead. He must have a word with Chloe and Alexa after this.

"Now, my turn," Milo says, almost throwing his gift to Tony. Tom catches it instead.

"Hey," Tony says. He isn't interested in what his former foe has gifted him: nobody's allowed to unwrap any of his gifts.

Tom opens the small box, sighing in relief when he takes a keychain out. Finally, a simple object.

"Oh f-," Tony stops when Tom's gaze falls on him, "f-furry cheeseggs." He flits his gaze to a smug Milo. "The key of the Rodriguezes."

"Yup, sort of," Milo answers. "It's a duplicate, actually. Would be mad to give you the real thing. It's the last thing my parents have left for me before they died."

"Oh," Tony says, his shoulders slumping.

"It's an amazing gift, Milo," Tom cuts in. "Now Tony can show off your family crest."

"Exactly," Milo agrees. "Nobody would dare to lift a finger at Tony once he starts at Maven Academy. For they wouldn't have one if they do."

"Wh-what?" Tom shouts, making everyone but Alexa flinch.

"Chill, amigo," Milo says. "It's just for a few hours. It regenerates back again. Good as new."

Tony snatches the keychain away from his startled brother. "Thanks, M-Milo." He laughs to hide his stammer. He'll never forget the times Milo and his gang bullied him. A thought dawns in his mind. "Why don't you raise a finger at me? Just to check if it works or not?"

Milo smirks. "I'm fine with it."

"No," Tom and Chloe say in unison. Alexa snickers, re-tying her ponytail.

"You won't use this or any of the other gifts until they are really necessary, Tony," Tom says.

Tony nods, keeping his gifts close. He can make them disappear and take them- No, no use. Tom will always notice, he's a shapeshifter after all. Shapeshifters can see everything.

"Okay," Alexa says, sitting straighter. "I've got good news. I'm back at Maven from this year."

"Oh yes," Tony says. "Then we'll all be together at school." Alexa stays on the other side of Mavis, at her family estate. And the Serranos will be shifting to Hillview, which is in another province altogether, the southernmost point in Henwrich. That's what made Tony bummed out as he was cleaning all this time.

"Not all," Milo cuts in, snapping Tony out of his daze. He turns to his sister, making Tom shift in place.

Chloe nods. "I've been accepted into the Delta Corps this year." She casts a restricted grin.

Tom's eyes widen. Not her! She hasn't done anything bad to get recruited there.

Alexa's eyes widen too, but for a different reason. "No, you didn't!" She jabs Chloe's shoulder, but Chloe doesn't waver. She's managed to displace a bit closer to Tom in that split second. "Girl, that's the elite force that I wanted to get into."

"Yeah," Chloe says, though less enthusiastically than the Herc.

"How long is the duration?" Tom asks. Four of his right hand fingers are crossed, the hand hidden behind him. Please let it not be like his case. 

"Six months. A year if I do well," Chloe says. "Mama wants me to advance further and join the Epsilon Squad in a few years."

"Hang on, the epencil squad?" Tony cuts in, a brow arched. His mind, stored with information of all the superheroes, villains, institutions, events till 1984, is now blank.

"It's Ep-cy-lon," Milo says. He points to the mirror. "It used to be under your abuela's command not long before." 

"You mean the Fifth Regiment?" Tom says. He glances at Chloe. She's agreed to join there? God, out of all the places... he should say no to the proposal. It's more than risky, the job. It's lethal. 

But he glances down. He can't. Tony will be at risk if he declines. 

"But I'll visit in the summer," Chloe manages to bring her joyous tone. "You guys will be here, right? At No. 62 Claremond Street." 

Both Tom and Tony nod. Everybody's silent from the next moment. Milo rubs his forehead, he shouldn't have told this.

Alexa claps her hands. "Guys, let's eat. I'm starving."

Tom nods, getting up. He's completely dazed, darkness beginning to creep into the edges of his vision. "I-I'll get the plates." He smiles when everyone looks at him with concern. "You guys get the rest ready." 

Before anyone can offer their help, Tom darts out of the room. 

"Por qué lo mencionaste (Why did you bring it up), Milo?" Chloe mutters, sighing.

"Calm down, Chloe," Alexa says, not knowing what Chloe meant.

Tony stares at the doorway. There's more to why Tom looks shaken.

***

"F***," Tom curses, when he ends up breaking a few plates while removing them from the cabinet. He buries his head in his hands. That's how Tony's been learning new cuss words.

He can't say no to the proposal. He can never say no. Tom grits his teeth. Why does his father have a fricking lot of debt in the first place? No, it's the ICJ. Michael's right in a way. The ICJ are the real villains.

"Gosh, are you okay?"

Tom quickly wipes the tears off his cheeks, taking in a deep breath. He turns back to see Tony at the doorway. He can't believe his baby brother's turning thirteen in a few months.

"Don't pick it up," Tom says when his brother enters.

"Pfft, I know that," Tony replies, carefully walking around the scattered shards of ceramic. He reaches the cabinets. "I've come here to help."

Tom nods, blinking away the tears that form in his eyes. The ICJ will choose Tony if he says no. "I'll get the plates, you grab the glasses and cutlery." 

"Got it," Tony replies, opening the cabinet in front of him. "Getting styrofoam glasses and forks. Alexa's brought Chinese." He steps closer to Tom, checking the empty doorway and corridor before saying, "Are you really okay? You look like a deer in front of headlights." He softly laughs, stopping it when Tom doesn't respond.

He's in a deeper hole than he thought.

Tony nods in agreement. "I wanted to ask something from yesterday. Who's the man in the video? I mean, the one in the cassette that was mailed last week."

Tom darts his gaze to him, almost dropping the plate in his hands. He's seen the tape. He exhales slowly, once step at a time, Tom. "Um, he's the new head of the ICJ. Travis Faulkner's his name."

Tony scrunches his brows. "What happened to the old one? Dr. Cho?"

"She died a few weeks ago," Tom answers, placing the plate down on the counter. "Cardiac arrest in her sleep."

Tony grimaces. Dr. Esther Cho still looked healthy for a 50-something-year-old. He glances at his brother. "So would you be joining the training program?"

Tom rests a hand on the counter now, his stiff muscles relaxing. Tony's not watched the full tape. Yes, now he remembers. He had cut the last few minutes of the tape, and burnt it.

"What do you think I should do?" he asks, a genuine grin panning out on his lips.

"Me?" Tony asks, pointing a finger to himself. He's speechless. Never once has this opportunity ever arrived. He clears his throat, removing any wrinkles from his tee. He must look good when he's giving his first advice to his prodigal, older brother.

"Of course, you should," he says, nodding. His hands waver as he explains, "This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Others like Chloe have to join forces to get into the core of ICJ, but this training program will be your one-way ticket. Like Mr. Faulkner has said. You'll get to train with the strongest and wittiest of superheroes, and it's happening during school hours, so you'll be back home on time." He pauses, taking in a breath. The boy's forgotten to breathe.

"Okay," Tom laughs. "Relax."

Tony joins in. Tom looks better now.

After a moment of snickering, the Banks brothers grab the plates, glasses and cutlery and navigate through the pricky path of the kitchen. Tony laughs as Tom walks in a wobbly, comical way. They reach the doorway, their guests' chatter audible from the other room. 

Tony bites his lip. "I know you'll be the greatest superhero ever, Tom." Seeing Tom startled, he darts away and into the living room. 

Tom chuckles, but tears flood his eyes. He has to be the greatest, yes. His new job will demand more than that. 

The 16-year-old shapeshifter glances at his bare left wrist. But not the greatest hero.

Thomas Banks has to be the greatest villain.

** The Banks brothers will return. **

Thank you very much for reading No. 62 Claremond Street.