The hum of the fluorescent lights buzzed in the ears of everyone in the hospital. K.O. looked up from the waiting room's least used coloring book when his name was called, and followed Carol through the cramped hallways. Holding her hand, K.O. could feel an unusual amount of sweat escaping from his mother's gloves.

"Are you Dr. Exposition?" asked Carol.

"Please," coughed a spring green, human-sized gecko in his mid-fifties, "Dr. Exposition was my father. Call me Sylvester. Are you K.O.'s mother?"

"Yes. Say hi to the doctor, K.O."

"Hi, Sylvester," gulped K.O.

"I understand that you've done some usual behavior that you don't quite remember, K.O. Can you tell me when that started?"

K.O. took a seat. As he explained, Sylvester scribbled notes and occasionally asked follow-up questions.

"Now, this other you, describe his appearance to me."

"Well, first we was this dark blob of anger in a cage, but then when I was in the cage, he looked like me, but different."

"Different how?"

"Well, he had his hair roughed up, plus it was more black than brown," K.O. reminisced. "His fisted glowed purple, and his bracelets had spikes on them. He had fangs and liked to wear Mom's eyeliner. I think his skin might have been grayer, but only by a little bit."

"So in short, he looked darker and edgier, is that fair to say?"

Carol gasped. "Doc, you're not saying…"

"Well, the symptoms suggests that he's in the early stages," Sylvester sighed, "but they're pretty hard to deny, ma'am."

K.O.'s gazed whipped back and forth. "Mom, what are guys talking about? Is there something wrong with me?"

Carol, recognizing her son's panic, quickly adopted a soft, nurturing voice to assure him with. "Nothing's wrong you kiddo, you're going to be fine. No matter what happens, you're always going to be my baby boy." K.O. believed roughly half that statement.

"Carol, with your permission," announced Sylvester, "I'd like to educate K.O. on his diagnosis."

"Of course."

"Well K.O., when a young hero is coming of a certain age, sometimes they may have a confrontation with their vices. Do you know what vices are, K.O.?"

"Uh…"

"They're personality traits that many would perceive as bad," told Sylvester, putting the word "bad" in finger quotes. "Things such as selfishness, apathy, or maybe anger."

"Anger, got it."

"And sometimes, those vices can be anthropomorphized as a shadowy version of that certain hero. We in professional circles have many names for these shadowy versions (mainly because there's various ways that can manifest), but the umbrella term for these shadows is Edgelords, or just Edges, as I've heard the kids say these days."

K.O.'s jaw opened wider than he previously thought possible. "No way! T.K.O. is an Edge? I have an Edge? I thought that heroes with a dark and troubled past could have Edges."

"Yes, that is a common misconception," said Sylvester, "but in reality, Edges can be triggered by a secondary party; often a villain taking interest in the Edge's host. Tell me, have you made contact with this Shadowy Figure since T.K.O. went back in his cage?"

"No."

"Have you made contact with T.K.O. himself since then?"

"Well, I've been having some weird dreams with him in them, but I don't remember them all that much."

"That's a very good detail, K.O.!" Sylvester smiled, writing it down. "Like I said, Edges come in many forms, and how they conflict with their hosts are a big factor into classifying them. From what I'm hearing from you and your mother, your symptoms match the ones of Banner's Identity Dissociation, or in layman's terms, hulking out. Your condition seems stable now, but in your later years, you should expect T.K.O. to be growing extensive muscle mass and ripping through the clothes you were wearing at the time."

"Wait, T.K.O.'s going to come back? It's not a phase?"

"A phase doesn't accurately describe it, no. Some heroes find a way to compromise with, contain, or even completely eliminate their Edges in favorable conditions, but for now, there is no known cure, and no case has ever faded away on its own.

"Carol, I have a few pamphlets K.O. might be interested in reading, plus a dream journal prescription."

"What's that?" K.O. wondered.

"You just have to write down what you dreamt last night, so you can remember it more clearly," Sylvester explained. "It's so that you and T.K.O. can communicate clearly."

"What?! I don't wanna talk to him, he's a butthead!"

"True, but the main cause of B.I.D. increasing in severity with men is ignoring their feelings. And even though everyone often forgets, your Edge's feelings are your feelings. Talk to T.K.O., see what bothers him. You might just convince him that being angry all the time isn't the solution."

The sentence alone plastered a smile on K.O.'s face for the rest of the day.

"And if you have a spot open on Fridays, I have the number of a support group."

"Hi, I'm K.O., and I have B.I.D."

"Hi, K.O.," the rest of the room greeted in unison.

"It's funny, I didn't expect to have an arch-nemesis until after I defeated a villain, but then my Edge woke up. It's a lot less exciting than it sounds, to be honest. He doesn't really like me speaking on his behalf, but if he were here, I'm sure that he'd be excited to meet a crowd that, y'know, got what his deal was."

"Thank you for sharing, K.O.," the support leader said softly. "Who would like to go next?"

"Hi, I'm Sonic the Hedgehog, and I've had lycanthropy since 2008."

"Hi, Sonic."