Disco Steve approached the front of MBL headquarters, nervous as hell, clad in jeans, a long sleeved shirt, his usual mask, gloves, and boots, having given up the uncomfortable spandex ensemble. He had been a young boy when he first joined their ranks; now he was older and more experienced, so he thought. Disco wondered if his former teammates would accept him back, having possibly realized the danger of putting the fate of the world (or the entire universe, in some cases) in the hands of a teenager. Probably not, since they seem to need all the help they could get, Disco concluded.
Upon finally reaching the door after much soul-searching and anurysm-inducing thought, he rang the buzzer and held his breath in anticipation for the answer.
