"Now this is the fun part," whispers a cape—gender indeterminate,  featureless white bodysuit, a cape that sways to absolutely no wind, a pentagonal mask with emoticons that change tracking the cape's face—looking at a small camera floating in front of them. "Figured out his base of operations was here—if you're new to the channel or haven't kept up, I've been having a series of, shall we say, encounters with a villain called Maelstrom and his gang. So, this is where he's at, and I'm gonna wreck his stuff." The cape raises a hand in front of the camera. "Hydrophobic coating, my stuff and I literally can't get wet." And just to prove it, they conjure a glass of water and drop the water on the hand, and it slides off neatly.

The video isn't being streamed live—yet. It would be the stupidest mistake, to let on that they'd figured it out, their video channel is public. But even when it does go live, there is very little the camera can actually see that's identifying—that wall could be in any of the myriad warehouses in New York. But it's a specific one.

They raise a finger to their mask's lips. "Let's see what they're doing inside." And the camera floats up to a mostly-boarded window and peeks between the boards, while the cape conjures a screen that shows what the camera's seeing so they can watch it.