[ WP ] Everybody made fun of you in hero school because your superpower was `` free refills , '' but now you discover it has bigger implications than anyone realized .

You remember the day they told you how you stacked up -- gamma grade. What a joke. Most mutants can live a normal life, sure they might be furry, or teleport short distances when they get excited, but for most of them life goes on with a shrug and a fun fact for when you have to go around the room and say something about yourselves. 
 
 But for the real powerful mutants that just is n't safe... And hell, you understand! I mean a beta-psyker can read minds! Even a gamma-grade precog is going to need special training and a hell of a lot of therapy. But your power? 
 
 Yeah next to the psykers, the semi-controlled beta-grade pyrokinetics, the empaths, the precogs and the kids that can literally freaking fly, free refills is a joke. 
 
 You're a joke. 
 
 Well. 15 minutes ago you were a joke. 
 
 You see, 15 minutes ago Dr. Heinous blew a hole the size of a school bus in the side of the gym and sent his abductor mark 7 robots into the start of year assembly of St. Sebastian's school for the demihuman. 
 
 He blasted the holy crap out of the principle, who put in time as a cape back when, and anyone that could reasonably resist, then moved right for the microphone. Thankfully, he opted for the new York reload for his plasma pistol and just tossed it under a bleacher row. 
 
 You've made coke bottles refill themselves, that's easy, you ca n't remember the last time you bought shampoo or conditioner, and you've saved a fortune on pop tarts over the years -- but heavy water and tritium hydride are a lot harder than you expected. 
 
 You grabbed the gun by reflex, then you felt it, that little'fill me' tickle at the back of your brain, and you gave in. Finally you understood what the real supes meant when they talked about riding the edge: adrenaline and power flowing free. 
 
 You stood up, pistol in hand, it was made for his hands, long and bony, but you could get to the trigger. 
 
 `` Oh you poor thing'' he said, seeing you, `` no ammo... I'm afraid, but you were so very brave... All for nothing. Pity,'' he says. You should feel honored to even get his pity, and hear his distinctive'here's where you went wrong';. It's been the last thing more than a few famous heroes have heard. 
 
 The plasma blaster jerks in your hand as you fire. In fact you empty the reservoir, thrashing the trigger wildly. 
 
 He laughs again, as his hyper-phase repulsor field barely manages to deflect the last bolt. Even while he chides you, `` oh I am impressed... But also well-defended'' you're obeying that tickle again. 
 
 The next barrage folds his shields up with the first two blasts. He looks surprised, so do you. You never imagined you'd be so heroic, or there would be so much blood. 
 
 `` H... How?'' He manages breathlessly and ragged. 
 
 You give him the same semi-ashamed answer to the perennial question `` so what do you do?'' 
 
 `` Free refills.''
