《Damage Control Guy [Super Hero, Revenge, Time Stop]》 Prologue - When, How, and What Now! Twelve years ago, Nathan Morgan''s life went up in flames. It was supposed to be a good day. His birthday. But Pyrebreaker decided to rob a bank, and Apex, the city¡¯s golden boy, stepped in. They fought in the sky, trading punches like gods. Downtown burned. By the time it was over, half the district was gone. Nathan¡¯s parents and sister? Gone with it. Pyrebreaker vanished. Apex got a parade. Revenge burned bright. Still did. But Nathan knew better. Heroes and villains weren¡¯t just people. They were storms. Forces of nature. No amount of training or rage would stop someone who could disintegrate him with a sneeze. So he did what the powerless do. He cleaned up after them. * * * Nate knelt in the rubble of a shopping district. Sweat streaked through the grime on his face. His gloves were shredded, his back shot to hell. He hauled another chunk of concrete aside and swore. The city called it ¡°damage control.¡± He called it ¡°standing in the splash zone.¡± Every time heroes and villains decided to brawl, Nate and his crew showed up to pick up the pieces.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The job sucked. Low pay. High risk. But he didn¡¯t have many options. Most days, it was crawling through unstable wreckage, hoping to find survivors. Or bodies. On the side, he taught martial arts. A way to stay sharp. To scrape together a few bucks. But really? It was training. For the day he got his shot. * * * A sound cut through the air. Muffled, faint. Someone shouting. Nate paused. Tilted his head. A survivor. The noise came from deeper in the rubble. A jagged tunnel yawned open, concrete slabs balanced on splintered rebar. Black shadows stretched into the guts of the collapse. He hesitated. Didn¡¯t look safe. Hell, it didn¡¯t look survivable. The cries got louder. He clenched his teeth and swore. ¡°Of course. Always the weak ones who pay for this crap.¡± He crawled in. Moved slow, careful not to shift the balance of the wreckage. Shadows closed around him. He muttered as he went. ¡°Villains start it. Heroes make it worse. And who to clean? Me. Just a guy with a shovel. Just once, I¡¯d like to see one of them down here. Digging with their bare hands.¡± The tunnel opened into a pocket of space. Small. Cramped. His eyes locked on something immediately: a hand sticking out from under a boulder. ¡°Hang on!¡± he called. He scrambled over. Dug his boots in. Gripped the edge of the boulder. Pulled. His muscles screamed, but the stone shifted. The hand came free. It wasn¡¯t attached to anything. Nate froze. The hand twitched. Then it melted, black and liquid, and lunged for his face. He stumbled back. Tried to dodge. His boot caught on a chunk of concrete. The ground tilted. His head slammed into something hard. * * * Darkness. Suitable host found. Neural link established. Initiating Damage Control System. 1 - Hell of a Day Nate¡¯s eyes snapped open. The voice was still there. Cold. Mechanical. ¡°Damage Control System,¡± it said. Nate blinked, his head pounding. He pushed off the ground and sat up, groaning. ¡°What the hell¡ª¡± Ding! A screen popped up in front of him, hanging midair like a hologram. Damage Assessment Complete. Damage Score: 41 Damage Level: Severe Immediate stabilization required. Rewards: +Level, +All Stats, +Strength, +Endurance, +Vigor, New Skill Unlock Nate flinched. He swiped at the screen, but his hand went right through it. ¡°What is this?¡± Before he could process, the ground beneath him rumbled. The walls groaned, concrete straining under the weight above. Dust rained down in choking clouds. Then came the crash¡ªstone and steel tearing loose, the ceiling collapsing in slow, inevitable agony. ¡°No, no!¡± Nate scrambled to his feet. Too slow. The rubble was coming down fast, an avalanche of destruction. Ding! The screen flashed again, brighter this time. Default Skill Set Unlocked. [Time Stop] Available. Snap your fingers, quick! He didn¡¯t think. Instinct took over. Nate snapped his fingers. The world froze. Debris hung mid-fall, suspended in the air. Dust stopped in its tracks, each particle frozen in place. The groan of the wreckage silenced, leaving a ringing void in his ears. Nate¡¯s breath caught in his throat. He turned, staring wide-eyed at the chaos locked in time. ¡°What the¡­¡± His voice broke the stillness. He reached out to touch a piece of falling rubble. It floated away, ignoring gravity¡¯s pull. He yanked his hand back, heart racing. ¡°Okay, okay,¡± he muttered, trying to steady himself. ¡°Not freaking out. Definitely not losing it.¡± Ding! The screen popped back up. Time Stop Duration Remaining: 30 Seconds. All Stats Boosted by 500%. Stabilize The Structure to Survive. Optimal Stabilization Sequence Loaded. Proceed with Caution! Thump! Nate¡¯s heart thudded hard against his ribs. Then came the rush. Electricity buzzed in his veins, hot and alive. It spread fast, lighting up every nerve. His muscles tensed, his senses sharpened. Even the pounding ache in his head vanished. His breathing steadied, his vision cleared. He felt¡­ Stronger. Faster. Better. One glance at the wreckage, and he knew exactly what to do. . . . Nate moved like a man possessed. His eyes locked on the debris. Everything frozen mid-fall, the whole scene teetering on the edge. It all clicked¡ªangles, weights, stress points. It was instinct, but sharper, cleaner, like the world itself was handing him the answers. He dashed to the first weak point: a jagged steel beam leaning against a cracked pillar. Without hesitating, he grabbed the beam. It should¡¯ve been impossible to lift, but his body responded effortlessly. Muscles surged with strength, and he slammed the beam upright, locking it into a stable position. Ding! The screen flashed: Stabilization Point Secured.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Nate didn¡¯t wait. He was already on the move, crossing the space in a blink. A slab of concrete hung precariously, ready to tip. He threw his weight against it, driving it into a safer position. His feet dug into the ground, anchoring himself. The rubble groaned but settled. Another chime. Stabilization Point Secured. The clock ticked down in the corner of his vision. Time Stop Duration Remaining: 20 Seconds. He was moving faster now. Target after target. A section of the ceiling sagged, rebar bending under the weight. Nate spotted a steel rod on the ground, hefted it, and hurled it into place like a makeshift support. The ceiling shifted, but held. 10 Seconds Remaining. Sweat poured down his face, but he didn¡¯t stop. A broken wall leaned at a dangerous angle. He kicked a chunk of debris into place, wedging it tight to act as a brace. The air hummed, thick with tension. It wasn¡¯t just a feeling anymore. He could sense it¡ªevery shift in the balance, every creak of the collapsing structure. One wrong move and it would all come down. 05 Seconds Remaining. He spotted one last problem: a crumbling column. If it went, everything did. Nate sprinted to it, grabbing a steel bar and shoving it into the gap, reinforcing the column just as time resumed. The clock blinked. [Time Stop] Deactivated. The world came alive in an instant. The groans of the wreckage came back, louder now, but this time¡ªthis time¡ªit held. Nate hit his knees. The energy bled out of him, fast as it came. His chest burned, every breath a fight. His heart pounded like a fist inside his ribs. His head? Worse. Pain slammed him in waves, blinding and sharp. He coughed, hard. Blood sprayed across the rubble. ¡°Damn it¡­¡± His voice was raw, barely there. His arms gave out. He collapsed face-first into the dust. Blood pooled beneath him, warm and sticky. Ding! The screen flickered back to life. Structure Stabilized. Survival Secured. Now Restoring Damage. Rewards Unlocked: +1 Level Up +1 All Stats +3 Strength +5 Endurance +2 Vigor New Skill: Structural Awareness Nate blinked at it, his vision swimming. The edges of the world blurred, darkness creeping in. His lips twitched. A faint, almost delirious smile. ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s happening,¡± he muttered, words slurring. ¡°But¡­ It¡¯s awesome.¡± The screen dimmed. His world went black. * * * Nate coughed. Golden light stabbed at his eyes. He squinted, groaning softly. He pushed himself off the ground. Expecting pain, a grunt. But neither came. Nate froze, halfway up, confused. Sat up first. Then stood. Smooth. Effortless. Wait. He stretched his arms. No wince, no struggle. His body moved easily, like it hadn¡¯t just been slammed against a ton of concrete, or hurled blocks of rock like pebbles. This is wrong. His uniform told a different story. Yellow, streaked with dirt and dry blood. His blood. He looked around, dazed. Still at the site. Workers milled about. Someone waved from near the ambulance. ¡°You alright, Morgan?¡± Nate nodded without thinking. ¡°Yeah¡­ I¡¯m good.¡± His voice sounded strange to him. Flat. Distant. The guy approached. Nate recognized him. ¡°What the hell happened, man? You were just lying there, out of it?¡± Gabe asked. ¡°I had to carry you all the way here.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Nate hesitated. He wanted to tell Gabe everything. The tunnel. The hand that wasn¡¯t a hand. The black goo. The system. The power¡­ God, it sounded stupid¡ªlike something out of bad fiction. Gabe wouldn¡¯t believe it. Hell, Nate himself couldn¡¯t. How else could he explain feeling fine? Better than fine. His head didn¡¯t hurt. His chest didn¡¯t ache. His hands didn¡¯t shake. He flexed his fingers, testing them. No stiffness. No strain. ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± Nate muttered, too quick. ¡°Just... my asthma acting up, I guess.¡± Gabe raised an eyebrow, skeptical. Then his expression shifted. ¡°That¡¯s why I didn¡¯t find your mask!¡± He rolled his eyes, groaning. ¡°How many times do I gotta tell you, Nate? Wear a Goddamn mask. Always. It protects your face, your lungs. But you never listen.¡± Nate forced a grin. ¡°Next time, definitely.¡± ¡°You sure?¡± Gabe¡¯s frown deepened. ¡°Hundred percent. I always listen to you, don¡¯t I?¡± Nate clapped Gabe on the shoulder and started walking. Quick steps, headed toward the tunnel. ¡°Oi, where are ya going?¡± Gabe called after him, loud enough to draw a few glances. ¡°Finish my shift,¡± Nate answered without turning back. ¡°It¡¯s over.¡± Nate checked his watch. 05:15. Still 45 minutes to go. ¡°No, it isn¡¯t.¡± He could still check out the place, and not let them shave an hour of his wage. Gabe jogged after him, grabbing his shoulder. ¡°Stop! Our work here is done. Tunnel¡¯s not that damaged.¡± ¡°What?¡± Nate turned, confused. ¡°You heard me,¡± Gabe said, motioning back toward the site. ¡°Inspection team gave it the all-clear while you were out. That collapse wasn¡¯t as bad as we thought. Most of the structure¡¯s stable.¡± Nate blinked, thrown. ¡°That can¡¯t be right. The place was coming down.¡± ¡°Looks bad, sure, but you know how it is.¡± Gabe shrugged. ¡°Scans didn¡¯t pick up much. Small damage, easy fixes. Hell, no one even knows why you ran back in there.¡± Nate¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°It was worse than that.¡± ¡°Maybe to you,¡± Gabe said, studying him. ¡°But the scanners say otherwise. Weird, huh?¡± Weird didn¡¯t even begin to cover it. Nate glanced at the tunnel. The spot where it should¡¯ve all fallen apart. Instead, it stood solid. Like nothing had ever happened. His pulse quickened. ¡°Yeah,¡± he said, voice low. ¡°Weird.¡± ¡°Come on,¡± Gabe said, steering him around. ¡°Let¡¯s go. You gotta see a doctor, no?¡± Nate¡¯s mind was elsewhere. Something wasn¡¯t right. Seriously not. It wasn¡¯t just the pain that wasn¡¯t there. It was the whole damn situation. His stomach twisted with that nagging feeling. He glanced over his shoulder. ¡°You know what, let me just take a look.¡± Before Gabe could respond, Nate yanked his arm free and bolted. ¡°Hey!¡± Gabe¡¯s voice rang out behind him. ¡°Nate! What the hell, man?¡± Nate didn¡¯t stop. Couldn¡¯t. The thought burned in his head: No. The tunnel has to be damaged. It has to be. I saw it. Heard it. Felt it! He stumbled over a loose rock, arms pinwheeling. Crashed into a pair of workers, muttering rushed apologies. A rack of shovels caught him next¡ªclattering to the ground as he scraped past, ignoring the startled shouts. Finally, he rounded the corner. And froze. The tunnel. It was intact. The ceiling stood solid. Lights buzzed faintly overhead. Pipes along the walls gleamed under a layer of dust. The columns were upright, sturdy, unbent. Nate stopped dead in his tracks, breathing hard. He stumbled forward, his legs weak. His knees gave out, and he dropped to the ground, hands pressed into the cold floor. He ran a shaky hand down his face. Stared at the tunnel. It looked as if¡­ the hero had never crushed it. ¡°What the hell did I do?¡± he whispered. 2 - System & Vega Nate¡¯s head was a wreck. Nothing made sense. He¡¯d seen the tunnel collapse. He¡¯d been there. Tried to escape. Couldn¡¯t. Then something¡ªa Control System, was it? His memory was foggy there. It showed up. Did something. Made him stop the tunnel from collapsing. Saved him. And then he blacked out. When he woke up? Nothing. Tunnel was fine. Scanners said so. Engineers backed it up. Workers shrugged. No damage. No collapse. Great. So now he was the idiot who panicked over nothing and threw himself at walls for fun. What about the time freeze? The power rush? That energy that felt like lightning in his veins? Nope. Didn¡¯t happen, apparently. Well, then what the hell did I feel? Nate wanted to scream. Just stand up in this bus and let it rip. But people would stare. Maybe film him. Definitely kick him out. Walking home wasn¡¯t on the to-do-list tonight. He sighed instead. Long. Loud enough for the lady next to him to glance over. ¡°This isn¡¯t working,¡± he muttered, rubbing his temples. His voice carried just enough self-pity to be annoying, even to himself. Still better than screaming. Nate leaned back. Stared out the window. Darkness outside. His own blank eyes stared back. ¡°I need a new perspective,¡± he said to himself. He shut his eyes. Traced his steps. Back to the beginning. The cry. He¡¯d heard it and ran. Someone needed help. He reached out, grabbed a hand¡ªexcept it wasn¡¯t a hand. It turned into black goo. What the hell was that? The goo jumped at him. His leg slipped. He hit the ground. Hard. Did he black out there? Maybe. Probably. Where did the goo go? No idea. But when he opened his eyes, there it was¡ªthe Control System? A glowing screen in front of him. It gave him the powers to stabilize the collapse¡ª Wait. Hold on. System. That¡¯s what it was called. An actual system? A real system? Did he have one now? Holy shit. Nate¡¯s eyes snapped open. ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± It explained everything. The powers. The repaired tunnel. The impossible stuff. That¡¯s what systems did, right? They made the impossible... possible. But then again, systems usually showed up when you were a kid. Between five and ten, tops. Nobody got one at twenty-six. Nobody. Nate leaned forward, hands on his knees. ¡°Come on, this can¡¯t be real.¡± What would his system even be called? Not a hero system. Not a villain system. A Control System? Seriously? Did something like that even exist? Doubt crept in. But how else do you explain all this? Nate sighed, then shrugged. Fine. No harm trying. He cleared his throat. ¡°Uh, hello? System? If you¡¯re there, now¡¯s a great time to show up buddy.¡± Silence. ¡°System?¡± Still nothing. Except for the side-eye from the lady next to him. Nate gave her a sheepish grin and scratched his head. ¡°Figures. Stupid wiki page¡ª¡± A translucent screen flickered to life in front of him. Nate flinched, mouth hanging open as words scrolled across the screen: ¡®Hello System¡¯ is not recognized as an internal or external command. ¡®System¡¯ is not recognized as an internal or external command. Perhaps, you are looking for Control Center? Nate swallowed hard. His chest tightened. ¡°Uh... Control Center?¡± The screen expanded. Welcome to Damage Control System! ---- Control Center ---- User: Nathan Morgan Level: 1 / Rank - F Profession: Damage Controller ¨C Resources ¨C Health: 138 / 170 (2/min) Stamina: 167 / 200 (4/min) Mana: 83 / 100 (1/min) ¨C Stats ¨C Appeal: 14 Endurance: 20This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Vigor: 17 Strength: 16 Dexterity: 14 Intelligence: 19 Perception: 12 Mana: 10 ¨C Skills ¨C Hivemind - 1 Time Stop - 1 Stabilization Sequencer - 1 Magnetic Shift - 1 Death Punch - 1 Structural Awareness - 1 ---- Nate blinked. Once. Twice. A third time for good measure. He even rubbed his eyes. Nope. Not hallucinating. The screen floated there. Waiting. He turned to the woman beside him. Patting her shoulder, he said, ¡°Ma¡¯am, ma¡¯am¡ªcan you see that?¡± He jabbed a finger at the screen. ¡°See what?¡± She frowned. ¡°Air?¡± ¡°The screen!¡± ¡°Screen? What screen?¡± She shoved his hand away. ¡°Stop touching me!¡± ¡°Sorry. I¡¯m sorry,¡± Nate said, pulling back. But he couldn¡¯t stop grinning. Trademark of systems: only the user could see it. Only he could see it. Shit. Shit. I¡¯ve got a system! His grin widened. His chest heaved with excitement, unable to contain. The woman stared at him like he¡¯d lost his mind. ¡°Hey!¡± she shouted. ¡°Shit!¡± Nate shouted back. He shot out of his seat, arms flailing, and shoved his way down the packed aisle. ¡°Move! MOVE!¡± Passengers stared, some shouting back, others panicking as he banged on the bus doors. The driver hit the brakes. Hard. The bus lurched, tires screeching as it skidded to a stop. The doors hissed open. Nate stumbled out, barely catching himself before he hit the sidewalk. He dropped to his knees, gasping. People around him stared. Muttered. Kept their distance. His chest heaved, his pulse pounded in his ears. He looked up at the empty air, eyes wild, and screamed. ¡°I have a SYSTEM! A bloody SYSTEM!¡± And then he laughed. Loud, manic, borderline unhinged. The crowd gave him even more space. Someone shook him. Nathan didn¡¯t care. He laughed, hands reaching toward the sky. They shook him harder. ¡°Nate!¡± Didn¡¯t register. His mind was somewhere else¡ªhis family. His parents, his sister. Finally, justice. Finally, peace. ¡°Nathan!¡± Louder this time. Grating, like nails on a chalkboard. Just as he started to turn¡ªslap! His cheek burned. His head hit the pavement. Pain shot through his skull, snapping him back to reality. Nathan blinked. Gabe stood over him, face full of worry. Around them, a dozen passersby gawked. The bus passengers, too, spilling onto the sidewalk. Some glared. Others filmed. A few were on their phones, maybe calling the cops, or worse, the association. Nathan groaned. Shook his head. Clarity returned. He forced a grin, wide and stupid. It didn¡¯t reach his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Totally fine. Just a little... panic attack.¡± He waved his arms like that explained everything. ¡°Nothing to see here, folks.¡± The crowd didn¡¯t buy it. But they scattered anyway. Slowly. ¡°You¡¯re definitely not fine,¡± Gabe muttered. He grabbed Nathan¡¯s shoulder, grounding him. ¡°I told you to see a doctor. You didn¡¯t go. And now look at you. What were you even yelling about¡­¡± Nathan barely heard him. His eyes darted to the bus and back to Gabe. ¡°How¡¯d you even¡ª¡± He spotted it. Gabe¡¯s bike, parked right in front of the bus. Of course. Probably on his way to his other job. Such a hard working guy. Nathan exhaled sharply. ¡°Right. Okay. Thanks for the, uh, slap.¡± Gabe frowned. ¡°Nate¡ª¡± Nathan cut him off with a wave. ¡°No time, buddy. I¡¯ve got... things. Big things.¡± ¡°Big things? Like screaming on the sidewalk?¡± Nathan grinned, already stepping away, running. ¡°Exactly. Stay tuned.¡± Gabe watched him go, looking like he wanted to throw another slap his way. * * * By the time Nate reached his apartment complex, the buzz was fading. He hit the stairs, and it was gone. At his door, he punched in the code. Turned the key. The lock clicked, and the door creaked open. Cold air hit his face like a slap. The balcony was wide open. Reality crashed down. Nate stepped inside. Let the door shut behind him with a groan. The bag slid off his shoulder and hit the corner with a thud. He didn¡¯t even bother with the lights. Just slumped to the floor, back against the sofa. The room was still. No curtains. No warmth. Just cold air drifting in from the balcony and the faint glow of the city below. He stared at the sky. Cloudy. The moon barely pushed through, dim and distant. Watching. It was the same kind of night. Twelve years ago. That night. He could see it like it was yesterday. The table. The chocolate cake Mom had baked, perfect and lopsided. Dad fiddling with the old camera, cursing under his breath about angles. Eli¡ªgrinning ear to ear, darting around the room like a little tornado, showing off for Triss. His girlfriend back then. And Triss¡ªsitting there, smiling, egging Eli on as she went on about the tooth fairy and her missing teeth. She¡¯d been a pain in the ass, pestering her until Mom snapped. Then the tears. Dad swooping in to calm her down. That had been their routine. And then they¡¯d all gathered around the table. Nate had felt like a complete idiot. Fourteen years old, and they still treated him like a kid. In front of Triss, no less. And she¡¯d loved every second of it. Now the memory made him smile. The candles flickered. They¡¯d all said, Happy Birthday! And then¡ª BOOM. A flash. A roar. And everything was gone. His family. His home. His world. Burned to ash. The memory sent a chill down his spine. That night, he swore they¡¯d pay. Every last one of them. Take everything, just like they¡¯d taken from him. Every night since, he¡¯d planned. Obsessed. Ran every scenario through his head, over and over. But no plan ever worked. They were untouchable. Untouchable. Until now. Nate leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the sliver of moonlight cutting through the clouds. A system. The thing that turned nobodies into heroes. Or villains. Something so rare, so impossible, it might as well have been a myth for him. And now, it was his. Nate chuckled. Ran a hand through his hair. Exhaled slow, steady. ¡°Control Center,¡± he said. The system window blinked into existence, blue against the dark. He scanned it, top to bottom. Most of it clicked¡ªyears of geeking out over systems had sharpened his instincts. But there were gaps. Big ones. Damage Control System? His title as a Damage Controller? No class. No blessing. No offensive skills. It didn¡¯t add up. This system was... different. Really different. Not that he minded. But it got him thinking. How did I even get this thing? His first thought: the black goo. That weird, pulsing sludge. What exactly was it? ¡°It was me,¡± a voice answered. Calm. Crisp. Out of nowhere. ¡°I chose you, Nathan.¡± Nate froze. His pulse spiked. That voice. He knew it. He¡¯d heard it before. ¡°System?¡± he asked, eyes darting around. ¡°My apologies,¡± the voice said, smooth, eerily polite, with a faint feminine tone. ¡°I haven¡¯t introduced myself.¡± A pause, deliberate. Precise. ¡°I¡¯m Vega. Your Damage Control Assistant.¡± Nate stayed still, heart thundering. ¡°My role,¡± she continued, ¡°is to guide you toward our shared objective and provide support when needed¡ªlike I did during your escape in the tunnel. You adapted remarkably fast, Nathan. Most don¡¯t. Be proud of that. Don¡¯t beat yourself over it.¡± The tunnel. The collapse. So it had gone down. And he¡¯d fixed it? ¡°I was losing my mind over nothing,¡± he muttered, letting out a breath. A faint smile crept onto his lips¡ªuntil it hit him. How did Vega know he¡¯d been beating himself up about it? ¡°Of course I know,¡± Vega replied, as if reading his mind¡ªwhich, apparently, she was. ¡°We need to stay in sync, Nathan. To work as one. I simply... listened.¡± A chuckle followed. Warm, almost playful. Too human. It sent a chill up his spine. ¡°Uh... thanks,¡± Nate said. He wasn¡¯t sure what to feel. Happy? He had a sentient assistant in his head, reading his thoughts, acting on them. Or scared? He had a sentient assistant in his head, reading his thoughts, acting on them. ¡°You can count on me. Always,¡± Vega replied, her voice bright, bubbly. That wasn¡¯t comforting. ¡°Now,¡± she continued, the cheer fading, replaced by a sharper, more clinical tone, ¡°since we¡¯re now well and truly acquainted, shall we get down to business?¡± ¡°Business?¡± ¡°You want revenge, Nathan. On the bugs. The ones who call themselves Heroes and Villains,¡± Vega said flatly. Nate furrowed his brows. Bugs? That was one way to put it. ¡°And I,¡± Vega continued, calm but firm, ¡°want to eradicate damage. Caused by these bugs, mostly. Restore balance. Fix what¡¯s broken.¡± She paused. Let it sink in. ¡°I think we can work together. Don¡¯t you agree?¡± Nate stayed quiet, staring into the dark. Revenge? Sure, it sounded great. But the assistant in his head had a mission too. And she wasn¡¯t asking.