Bored out of his mind, Winslow Bandeaux tapped his fingers impatiently on the divider that kept him filed neatly in line. He stood in a long asphalt parking lot filled not with cars, but rather people. Surrounding them on all sides was the sprawling, blinking, noisy city of Enmetropolis. Full of life, he felt drawn to it, and not only because he’d been waiting in this line for the past several hours.

"Quit it," Bruce barked, staring down at Winslow’s drumming fingers. ...