"Are you really reading that right now?" Marco asks. "Right now, yoi."

"Why not?" Ace asks over the newspaper, grinning insouciantly. The headline right under his grin reads MYSTERIOUS FIRES ROUT CONSPIRACY!

"Because we're on in three," Sabo says across the comm line. "C'mon, Ace; it'll still be there tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah," Ace says, and crumples the paper up into one fist and makes it vanish. "Marco? You ready?"

"Everyone's ready but you, Ace," Sabo says. "Positions; we're in countdown."

Ace grins, tugging his hood up, and steps up to stand on the very edge of the roof. He looks south, into the darkness, where half a city away Sabo is standing on another roof, dressed just the same. "I always wanted to do a teleportation trick," he says, sliding palms over his slacks and letting his grin spread.

"They'll never catch us," Sabo promises, and Marco starts a five count on his fingers, stepping over to the spotlight.

Three-two-one! Ace tracks and he's perfectly still and poised when the light hits him, reflecting off the cape's lining like a beacon.

Ace spreads his arms wide, grins through the adrenalin, and says, "Showtime!"