I’m perched on a rooftop with Batman, freezing my ass off. We’re watching a particular gang of criminals; they’re composed of academics and mid-level corporate managers that have unlocked technology that turn a vibrant young man into a weak, chinless, broken-down, asexual corporate drone. They’re carting a series of unconscious bodies away, ready to spread more of their odious mindset. Batman’s eyes narrow and he shakes his head in disgust. “There is no greater evil,” he mutters. His gaze steels and he leaps off the building. I follow in his wake, and we plunge into a crowd of evil-doers. We’re punching, kicking, throwing, when suddenly one of them rips off his face, revealing a spiny, chittering insect head. It bites through Batman’s composite armor, paralyzing him with ionotropic neurotoxins. It screams in triumph: “BOW BEFORE US! THE DICKLESSSS!” Its last word ends in a sibilant hiss. I know I’m in over my head; I’m trained for psychos, maybe robots. The Dickless are in a completely different league. I open my eReader to Echo. Magic flash. Suddenly, I’m charged with sorcerous power. I reach in these insectoid’s minds, revealing to them their inevitable fates: their wives running off with tennis trainers, kids that eat their own boogers, endless binge-watching of Homeland, a slow descent into impotence and madness…The Dickless drop to their knees, sobbing in utter defeat. By this time, Batman’s recovered, and I help him to his feet. “Should we finish ’em?” I ask. He says, “No.” He scans the Dickless with a steady gaze. “They’ve suffered enough.” We shoot our grapnels at a rooftop and disappear into the night.