A white family van rolled into the San Fransokyo Institute of Technology parking lot, rumbling to a stop between two massive delivery trucks. The engine clicked softly as it powered down, and the doors immediately swung open.
Susan Labs stepped out first, adjusting her blouse and brushing off a few wrinkles. "Harold, hurry up, we're already running a bit behind!"
Harold Labs climbed out from the driver's seat, squinting at the massive convention center. "Susan, this is San Fransokyo. The traffic fights back."
The side door slid open and Dee Dee hopped down—light on her feet, tall, poised, mature… but still unmistakably Dee Dee. Her ponytail bounced as she stretched her arms over her head.
"So this is SFIT," she said, looking around with wide curiosity. "Wow. Dexter actually got invited to present here. Little bro's moving up."
Harold puffed his chest proudly. "Of course he is! I told you all our Dexter is a genius. Takes after his old man!"
Susan raised an eyebrow. "Harold, Dexter got his brain from me."
Dee Dee smirked. "And his dramatic monologues from dad."
"HEY!"
They began walking toward the convention entrance, the noise of the crowd increasing with every step.
"Now remember," Susan said, "we're not here to embarrass him. We're here to cheer him on."
Harold nodded firmly. "Right. No shouting, no waving giant posters, and absolutely no—"
Dee Dee pulled a rolled-up banner from her bag.
"DEE DEE, NO."
"What? It just says 'GO DEXTER!' in glitter."
"It sparkles, Dee Dee," Harold muttered. "That's a weapon."
Dee Dee laughed. "Relax. I won't use it… unless he really needs moral support."
Harold chuckled. "It's been a while since we visited an institute. I still remember that museum where Dexter accidentally activated the anti-gravity exhibit."
Susan elbowed him lightly. "That was not his fault. The sign said 'Do Not Touch' in a font too small to be legally binding."
They reached the main hall just as a huge gasp rippled through the audience. All three Labs turned toward the stage.
"What is happening now?" Suan asked, craning her neck.
They squeezed closer.
Inside the presentation area, thousands of microbots swarmed in the air, forming bridges, pillars, and swirling metallic ribbons around a boy standing confidently at the center of the stage.
Susan placed a hand over her mouth. "My goodness…"
Dee Dee gasped. "Woooooow! That looks like something Dexter would make if he wanted his inventions to dance!"
Harold blinked rapidly. "Are those tiny robot… beads?"
The microbots formed a spiral staircase that Hiro walked on, sending the crowd screaming in awe.
Then—
"Susan?"
A familiar face stood a few feet away.
Short brown hair tied back, warm smile, dressed casually but neatly.
"Helen?" Susan blinked.
Helen Parr turned, eyes lighting up. "Oh my goodness! I thought that was you!"
They met halfway, exchanging delighted greetings.
"You brought your family too?" Susan asked.
Helen nodded. "Of course! We heard there was a tech fair, and the kids wanted something fun to do today. Figured we'd let them explore." She grinned lightly. "Besides… Bob gets restless if he stays home."
"Hey!" a voice rumbled behind her.
Bob Parr stepped forward, wearing a button-up that was doing its absolute best not to explode at the seams. He extended a hand toward Dexter's dad.
"Good to see you again. Quite a place, huh?"
Harold shook his hand enthusiastically. "Oh, definitely! So much innovation… so much potential… so many ways for things to explode!"
Bob laughed. "You sound like Helen."
"I sound like my son," Harold corrected proudly.
Susan and Helen continued chatting.
"Have you been here before?" Helen asked.
"No, but Dexter insisted this event was important. He rarely asks us to come to his showcases. Usually he prefers to keep us far, far, far away from them."
Helen smiled knowingly. "Smart kid."
Meanwhile, Dee Dee and the Parr kids connected instantly.
They had seen each other before, but only in the distant, "neighbor you barely acknowledge" way.
Violet offered a small, hesitant wave.
"Uh… hi," she said softly. "You're… the girl who lives next door, right?"
Dee Dee grinned. "Yep! Dee Dee. Nice to finally talk to you."
Violet nodded, awkward. "Right. I've… seen you around. You have a… uh… brother?"
"Yeah." Dee Dee rolled her eyes in the fond big-sister way. "Grumpy, dramatic, Talks like a professor?"
Violet's eyes widened slightly. "Oooh… him. I didn't know his name."
"Dexter," Dee Dee said with a flourish, as if introducing a magician. "And trust me, knowing him comes with a whole instruction manual."
Violet let out a tiny snort of laughter before she coughed into her sleeve, embarrassed.
Before the moment could settle—
A blur zipped around them.
"VIOLET! MOM SAID WE CAN GET ICE CREAM IF WE DON'T BREAK ANYTHING!"
Dash stopped mid-sprint when he realized he wasn't alone. He grinned up at Dee Dee.
"Whoa! You're tall."
"Whoa! You're fast," Dee Dee said with the same grin.
He bounced on his heels. "Wanna race?"
"Dash!" Violet hissed.
But Dee Dee only smirked, she tapped his forehead lightly. "Maybe later, speedster."
Suddenly, the booming speakers crackled.
"Next presenter: DEXTER LABS, representing DextroTech Industries!"
The entire Labs family froze.
Susan clasped her hands together. "Oh! It's starting!"
_______
As the audience shifted and murmured in anticipation for Dexter's entrance, two figures slipped through the side aisle toward the front rows—one tall, sparkling, and radiating unapologetic wealth; the other calm, composed, and scanning the environment with professional precision.
Princess Morbucks strutted ahead, glittering heels tapping sharply against the polished floor. Her gold-trimmed jacket shimmered under the stage lights, her perfectly curled hair bouncing with each smug step.
"Hmph! Honestly, these seats are adequate but nowhere near what I requested." She snapped her fingers dramatically. "I said front row, Phil! Front row! If I'm going to watch my genius business partner take the spotlight, I need EVERY camera to see me too."
Agent Phil Coulson followed beside her, unbothered, holding a clipboard and maintaining the expression of a man who had seen everything.
"This is the front row, Princess."
He pointed at the seats directly in front of the stage. "Any closer and you'll be standing on the presentation table."
Morbucks paused, processed that, then huffed. "…Fine. But it better be a good angle."
Coulson gave a small smile. "It will be."